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GsIIeges apid ^Gh8©ls 



Late President of the National School of Elocution and Oratory, 





We could not allow him an orator who had the best thoughts, 
and who knew all the rules of rhetoric, if he had not acquired the 
art of using them.— Dryden. ^-'■TTrv'^rrc /-t^-^— -^ 

Publication Department, 

The National School of Elocution and Oratory, 





Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1886, by 


in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. 

ih StuMa 



Enthusiasm, Faithfulness and Loyalty 
the author is indebted for so much strength and 





The study of Elocution and Oratory was pursued to a very 
high degree by the ancients, and is therefore' an old study. 
It was, however, so nearly lost as a distinctive branch of cul- 
ture, and it received so little attention foi many succeeding 
centuries that it may be very justly termed a modern science. 

It was the original design of the author to prepare for the 
use of the National School of Elocution and Oratory, an 
outline of principles embodying his system of instruction, 
and to furnish the students of the institution a text for their 
future personal or public w^ork. The rapidly increasing de- 
mand, however, for a more extended exposition of these 
principles, and for a copious collection of appropriate exer- 
cises, together with the urgent request of many students 
and educators throughout the country, has led to the pub- 
lication of " Practical Elocution." 

Now that the work has been completed, and is about to go 
forth on its mission, we are led to realize more deeply than 
ever how little of the sinrit can go along with the letter — how 
little of the inspiration which the true teacher should impart, 
can accompany the monotonous lines of the printed page. 
We do not believe any theory can substitute for the living 



presence of the teacher. The theory of Elocution can no 
more produce good readers and speakers than the theory of 
music will make good singers or experts on the instrument; 
3'et correct principles may so direct the student away from 
eirror, and towards the truth, and may furnish to the teacher 
such resources in methods and exercises as would require 
3'ears of time to arrange for himself. 

Elocution will not substitute for intellect; neither will it 
furnish material for the mind any more than gold will buy 
material. It will not provide thought. It will not even pro- 
vide vehicles or words, so necessary to the discussion and 
exchange of thought. Its work is to give principles and 
direction for the management of thought after it has been 
furnished and clothed. Knowledge is capital, only valuable 
as it is available, and Elocution is the great natural means 
of rendering knowledge available. 

Spoken language tnay he said to bear three distinct relations to 
the signification of the words which enter into it. 

First. — A sentiment may be so uttered as to weaken or 
pervert the simple meaning of the words. Wanting in the 
necessary force, emphasis misplaced, or modulation disre- 
garded, the words, though possessing volumes of thought^ 
may be rendered almost void of meaning. 

Second. — The sentiment may be so spoken as to leave its 
plain meaning unaffected, neither adding to or taking from 
the mere signification of the words. The listener, hearing, 
and being familiar with the words, obtains an intellectual 
knowledge of the thought expressed. He is impressed with 
the words only to the degree that he is interested in the 
thought. There is nothing in the presentation to attract his 
attention, or that will awaken interest within him. Had he 
seen the words in the skeleton forms of written language, the 
effect would have been the same. They have been presented 
to his sense alone. 

Third. — The same sentiment may be spoken so that it shall 
not only e2;press the idea indicated, but that it shall impress 
that idea upon the mind and heart. Under this character of 

utterance we supplement the form of words with their power, 
investing the mere passive clay with the life-giving principle 
which shall send it forth an active, aggressive influence. 

This we believe to be the original and legitimate design of 
speech. It could not have been the purpose of the Creator 
that this marvellous faculty should perform the service of a/ 
mere dead machine. Correct, cultivated utterance gives 
emphasis and spiritual effect to written language. 

In the following pages the attention of teacher and student 
has been directed prominently to the study of natural speech 
as revealed by Conversation. It is believed that we may here 
find nature most true, however crude, and that we may obtain 
from her, models and inspiration for the more exalted con- 
ditions of speech. Spoken language finds its original and 
simplest forms in conversation. 

The conditions of mind and body in ordinary conversation 
are best adapted for the study of our own individuality. We 
cannot study self w^hen on exhibition. We dress up for 
strangers. We spend much time and means to prepare our 
bodies for distinguished company, not always with the most 
happy effect. Sometimes it results in such a perversion of 
our natural appearance as to give offence rather than 
pleasure. So, in the expression of our thoughts, voice and 
manner are modified by the presence of the multitude, and 
sometimes, upon great occasions, they are so perverted as to 
lose all that is natural and impressive. Thus thousands fail 
of their just merit in presenting themselves to strangers. In 
the effort to be natural they become unnatural. In their 
attempt to represent themselves for what they are not, they 
fail to receive value for what they are. Nature may be 
pruned, cultured and directed, but we cannot substitute it. 
I will always be stronger as myself than I can be as any 
one else, and as we represent ourselves most through our 
words, we should in our words be most trne to ourselves. 
We should study ourselves and seek our examples from that 
condition where true nature is least modified. This condi- 
tion we believe to be that of conversation with our intimate 


friends. Conversation may be most faulty and corrupt, yet 
we will find in it a harmony with our own natures, and con- 
stantly recurring lights and shades of natural expression that 
may serve as models for study and imitation, such as we can 
find nowhere else in the whole range of utterance. But it is 
not sufficient to find the germs. They must have growth 
and maturity. The work of culture and development pre- 
cedes the efficient use of all our faculties. Man, in the crea- 
tion of his own being, is made a partner with God. We are 
co-workers with God in self-construction. He gives us the 
plastic material, with directions or laws for its use, condi- 
tioning the result of the work upon the application of those 

It is better to develop our own faculties, though inferior, 
rather than to attempt to appropriate another's. Our own 
will serves us better, because designed for us by the Creator, 
and hence in harmony with our being. God will hold us 
responsible for the talents He has given us. He does not 
ask that We buy or borrow, but demands increase through 
culture and development. The expression of thought and 
feeling, therefore, should be in the simplest and purest har- 
mony with the elements of our individual nature. But how 
to find our true nature may prove our most difficult task. 
We have been so misdirected that there has grown upon us 
by observation and contamination, such a coating of man- 
ners and habits foreign to the original, and we have acted so 
long in sympathy with this accumulated surface that we may 
hardly recognize our true selves. We have so long followed 
the untrue that we may hardly know the true. We have so 
long associated with this outer that we fail to comprehend 
the inner. Hahithns become so fixed as to constitute a second 
nature, and close analysis becomes necessary that we may 
draw the lines between our own nature and this accumulated 
or borrowed nature. Our first work, then, is to distinguish 
the true from the false, the original from the borrowed, 
nature from habit, that we may develop, each in himself, the 
original creation, rather than the warped and distorted crea- 
tion of our own hands. 

The author would here make gi'ateful acknowledgment of 
he assistance he has received in the preparation of this 
w^ork by those directly associated with him in the Institution 
over which he presides. Mrs. Shoemaker, Prof. J. H. Bechtel, 
and Prof. K. 0. Moon, have furnished him the fruit of their 
investigations in the several departments which they repre- 
sent, and are worthy of more prominent mention than he 
can here afford them. He does not forget the many friends 
to whom he is indebted for suggestive help, for counsel, 
and for encouragement. 

That " Practical Elocution" may contribute, in some 
degree, to the elevation of a noble art, has been the aim, 
and remains the earnest hope of the author. 

J. W. S. 
Philadelphia, September 2d. 1878. 

Explanatory Note.— The reference to the several numbers of the Elocu- 
tionist's Annual for additional examples, has been made for the advantage of 
students and others who may use that series in connection with this volume. 


Introduction, ...... 

Outline of Elocution and Analysis of Principles (Diagram), 

Explanation of the Outline, .... 
Definition, . , 

Importance, . . 

In Physical Development, 

In Social Life, , 

In Business Life, , 

In Public Life, . . . 


Vut its own sake. 

Examples, .... 

In its relation to Reading, 
In its »«lation to Public Address, 


Speeeli, .... 


Pliilosophy of Voice, , 

Utteranc-fe, . t 

Development, . • 

Breathing,. . « 

Exerciseo, , • 

Vocal Exe^'tises, 

Table of Vge&l -Exercises, 
Examples, . 

Gymnastics, , . 

Exercises, . 


Pure, , . 

Simple Pure, 

Examples, . 

Orotund, i • 

Examples i 

Impure, , . 

Pectoral, , . 

Examples, , , 

♦For full Alphabetical Index, see page 195. 






Guttural, . ..... 


Examples, ...... 


Aspirated, ...*.. 


Examples, ...... 


Falsetto, ...... 


Examples, ...... 


Articulation, . • . . . . 


Classification, . . 


Table of Elementary Sounds, . , 


Exercises, ...... 


Expression, ...... 

. 112 

Modulation, . • , . , 


Quality, ...... 

. 113 

Pitch, ....... 


Examples, ..... 

. 114 

Force, ....... 


Examples, . . , . . 

. 119 

Time, ...... 


Rate, ...... 

. 123 

Examples, ...... 


Quantity, ..... 

. 127 

Examples, ...... 


Pause, ...... 

. 129 

Examples, •;,*.. 


Slides, ...... 

. 131 

Examples, ..... i 


Gesture, ...... 

. Ml 

Position, ...... 


Movements of the Body, .... 

. 145 

Examples, ...... 


Facial Expression, . • . . 

. 158 

Examples, . . . . • . 



Theory, ...... 

. 170 

Outline of Methods, ..... 


Primary, ...... 

. 180 

Advanced, ...... 


Appendix, . . . . . . 

. 1,-5 

Miscellaneous Suggestions, .... 


Emphasis, . , . . . . 

. 18G 

Miscellaneous Vocal Exercises, » , i , 


Laughter, . . .... 

. 189 

Bible Reading, ...... 


Sound to Sense, . t . • . 

. *191 

Transition, ..•,.. 


Analysis, ...... 

. 192 

Rcpuse, . ..«,«. 





Sandalphon Longfellow 197 

Echo and Narcissus, Thomas Bulfinch 199 

Lady Clara Vere de Vere, Alfred Tennyson 202 

Massachusetts and South Carolina Daniel Webster 204 

How They Brought the Good News from 

Ghent to Aix, Robert Browning 207 

Othello's Apology, Shakespeare 209 

Paul Before King Agrippa, Bible 211 

Nightfall, W. W. Ellsworth 213 

Catiline's Defiance, George Croly 215 

The Honored Dead, H. W. Beecher .217 

The Voice in the Twilight, . , Mrs. Herriek Johnson . . . 219 

The Boys, 0. W. Holmes 222 

Masters of the Situation, James T. Field 223 

Kentucky Belle Constance Fenimore Woolson. 226 

Trust, Dean Alford 232 

The Loss of the Arctic, H. W. BeecJier 233 

The Cataract of Lodore Robert Southey 236 

Your Mission, 238 

Our Duties to Our Country, Webster 239 

Marmion and Douglas .... Sir Walter Scott 240 

Pictures of Memory, Alice Cary 242 

Cassius Against Caesar, Shakespeare 244- 

Tact and Talent London Atlas 246 

God's First Temples W. C. Bryant 248 

The Nature of True Eloquence, Daniel Webster 251 

Orpheus and Eurydice, John G. Saxe 252 

A Welsh Classic ff. H. Ballard 256 

Eulogy on O'Connell, W. H. Seward 258 




A Man's a Man for a' That, Robert Burns 260 

The Sailing of King Olaf, Alice Williams Brotherton . 261 

Supposed Speech of John Adams on the 

Declaration of Independence, Daniel Webster 265 

The Clown's Baby, 268 

Extract from a Eulogy on General Grant, . . J. P. Newman 271 

" Bay Billy," Frank H. Gassaway .... 273 

"Words on Language 0. W. Holmes 277 

An Extract from Snow-Bound, J. G. Whitiier 279 

John Bunyan Macaulay 281 

Lochinvar's Ride, Sir Walter Scott 282 

The Two Roads, Jean Paul Richter 284 

The Revolutionary Rising, Thomas Buchanan Bead . . 286 

A Lost Chord, Adelaide Anne Proctor . . 289 

The American War, PHt 290 

The Glass Railroad, George Lippard 291 

Guide me, O Thou Great Jehovah ! W. Williams 294 

In the Cross of Christ I Glory, J. Bowring 295 

Jesus ! Lover of My Soul, C. Wesley 295 

My Country ! 'Tis of Thee, S. F. Smith 297 

Matthew XXV, ^^^ 

Psalm XCI, , ,-301 


Elocution, from eloqui, to speak out, to express, 
(e, out ; and loqui, to speak,) as now applied, 
contemplates the whole art of conveying thought 
through the organs of the body. 

Before entering directly upon the study of this 
subject, we may receive a worthy inspiration in con- 
sidering the broad and abundant opportunity which 
opens to us. Elocution concerns the commerce of 
mind and soul. As such, it involves the capability on 
the part of the student to comprehend^ to appreciate^ 
and to communicate thought and emotion. To this 
end, he needs the best of all his powers. It is only the 
voice that has reached its best, and the eye that 
beams from the soul^ and the hand of grace^ and the 
attitude of manhood and womanhood^ that can convey 
the immortality which has been breathed upon us. 

By sin these powers have been enfeebled and 
deformed and under its buruca their deformity, 
increases. Guarded and regu'/at^d by the laws of 
our creation, they may be rescued and made poten- 
tial in conveying the very mind of the Creator. 



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Elocution relates to manner or style in speaking. 
Good Elocution consists in the natural expression 
of thought bj speech and gesture. 

Note 1. Natural must be understood as applying to O'.ir 
highest or God-nature, and should be carefully distinguished 
from habit or second nature. 

Note 2. The term expression is strengthened, if understood 
to include conveyance or passage, as of a body from one 
place to another. 

Note 3. Thought has here its broadest application, and 
signifies feeling and passion as well as sentiment. We should 
convey not only the idea contained in the thought, we should 
also convey the impression made upon us by the thought. 

Note 4. Speech covers every intelligent use of the organs 
of speech, articulate and inarticulate, whispered and vocal. 

Note 5. Gesture concerns position and facial expression, 
as well as movements of the body. 

Note 6. Thus it will be seen that correct elocutionary 
training is the subordination of the entire physical being to 
the service of mind and spirit, thought being the product of 
the inner or spiritual man, and speech and gesture its natural 
outlet through the exterior or physical man. 




Elocution calls into play the most vital organs of the 
human body, the correct use of the voice constituting an 
important source of grace and strength to these organs. 

It will demand correct posture and proper habits of res- 
piration ; it will afford healthful exercise to the throat and 
lungs ; it will bring the intercostal muscles into vigorous 
action; it will give natural stimulant to the circulation, so 
that the organs of digestion and the entire physical system 
participate in the benefit. 

It is justly claimed that no other exercise will call forth 
so natural and uniform an action of the whole system, as the 
proper exercise of the voice. 


It is in social life that we mould character, and e"sert the 
most lasting influences. These influences are exerted through 
word and deed. Word and deed receive their character, in 
a great degree, through voice and manner. We will, there- 
fore, render our influence agreeable and effective, largely 
in proportion as the voice and manner are pleasing and 

Temperament, disposition and motive will be measured 
by their outward expression. If this expression is coarse, 
abrupt, and unattractive, the inner life will be exposed to a 
corresponding verdict ; and in proportion as this expression 
becomes natural and refined will the verdict be changed. 


Our happiness and usefulness, therefore, in the social rela- 
tions must depend greatly upon the culture of these qualities. 

It is further important, because our social relations include 
our best friends, and they should receive from us the best we 
have, and in our best manner. 


Other things being equal, a man will succeed in businestj 
largely as he can address himself upon his wares, be they 
mechanical, physical, mental or moral. 

He will succeed through the capability of winning atten- 
tion to his business. 

The same power which gives influence in the social sphere, 
will attract to. our business operations. 

Character of tone and dignity of manner will reflect re- 
liability upon our vocation or profession. 


It will enable us to give accuracy and fulness of meaning 
to our words, and to convey the spirit of the thought to the 

Words are but the dead forms of triought. The human 
voice may breathe into them the breath of life and make 
them living influences. 

Elocution will give that culture b}^ which we may please 
the eye and the ear, so that our words shall be presented 
favorably to the judgment. It will also add that force and 
dignity to expression, and that confidence of manner which 
will command the multitude. 

A single sentence may be the exponent of years of stncVv 
and experience, and it is possible only by the most carcfui 
practice in the art of expression to pronounce such a seu- 
tence with corresponding efTect. 



Conversation is the simplest and most common form of 
buman expression. 

It contains tiie germs of all speech and action, and therefore 
constitutes the basis of oratorical and dramatic delivery. We 
exercise these germs of speech and action most in conver- 
sation ; it is therefore natural that we should here form our 
most permanent habits of expression. 

These habits will control, not only our conversation, hut, as 
hereafter shown, they will, in a great degree, affect our 
reading emd public address. 

The importance, therefore, of acquiring iki the common 
intercourse of life, correct habits of voice and manner cannot 
be overestimated. Hence, the consideration, first, of 


No higher art is possible to man than the art of transmit- 
ting, naturally and effectively, in common intercourse, the 
sentiments and feelings of which he is capable. 

This art includes chaste and appropriate language, and 
grace and variety of manner, as well as the purity and adap- 
tation of speech. It is, however, only the latter phase of the 


subject that will concern us in this treatment, namely, correct 
speech. To this end, the student should secure the criticism 
of the ear upon his own and others' Conversation, by atten- 
tion — 



Voice. — The Voice should be natural, pure, und full. 

Note.— The long vowel sounds, marked "Naturally," as given in the table 
of "Vocal Exercises,'' and such Conversational Sentences as are here given, 
should be cartfully practiced. 

Articulation. — The Articulation should be correct and distinct. 

Note. — Master the table of Elementary Sounds and practice the varioua 
accompanying exercises. 

Expression. — The Expression should be adapted to the senti- 

Note. — The intelligent student will readily discover some of the leading 
relations of sound to sense; such, for instance, as that of gaycty, solemnity, 
pathos, &c. Attention to these in practice, will lead to the discovery of other 
and closer relations, until every sentiment will suggest, promptly, its corres- 
ponding tone. 

Summary. — Voice, Articulation, and Expression, as here 
defined, may be termed the a, b, c of speech. 


Every observing student will be able to detect errors with 
reference to the several points here named. His ear will be 
sufTiciently critical to distinguish one or more of the many 
faults common to conversational voice. He will also detect 
sluggishness of articulation and the habitual use of incorrect 
sounds. He will perceive, to some degree, or in some particu- 
lar, a want of adaptation to the sentiment expressed. In 
other words, his knowledge is beyond his practice, and no 
more important counsel can be given upon this subject than 
the following : 


1. Listen to your conversation with reference to the several 
elements named. 

2. Correct, in conversation, that which you know to he 

3. Allow no occasion to he so unimportant as to admit of 
loose or incorrect speech. 

By this practice, the ear will observe the speech of those 
more correct than yourself, and will lead you to discover more 
and more closely your habitual faults, and thus to elevate 
and purify your conversation. 


These exercises represent a broad variety of conversational 
styles and should be carefully practiced with reference to the 
voice, the articulation and the expression, according to 
the preceding treatment. 

1. " Good morning, Mr. Jones, I am glad to see you. When 
did you arrive in the city ? " 

'* i came in by the last train." 

" I hope you left your family well." 

"Very well, thank you." 

" You will call upon us before you go back ? " 

" I will, thank you." 

" Good morning, sir." 

" Good morning." 

2. Is John at home? 
Is your father well? 
When will you go ? 
What is your name? 
What time have you? 

Did 5^ou arrive by the night train ? 

Have you to-day's paper ? 

What is the news ? 

Did you see our mutual friend, Mr. Wilson ? 

Have you been well ? You look ill. 

Note.— The practice of questions, such as these, will be found of great ad- 
vantage in gaining natural expression. They should be varied in emphasis and 


3. We have demonstrations enough, fortunately, to show 
that truth alone is not siifificient; for truth is the arrow, but 
man is the bow that sends it home. There be many men 
TV'ho are the Ught of the pulpit, whose thought is profound, 
whose learning is universal, but whose offices are unspeakably 
dull. They do make known the truth, but without fervor, 
without grace, without beauty, without inspiration ; and 
discourse upon discourse would fitly be called the funeral oj 
important subjects! — Henry Ward Beecher. 

4. And he said, A certain man had tw^o sons ; and the 
younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the por- 
tion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them 
his living. And not many days after, the younger son gathered 
all together, and took his journey into a far country, and 
there wasted his substance with riotous living. And when 
he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; 
and he began to be in want. — Luke xv : 11-14. 

5. Hamlet. Hold you the watch to-night? 

All. We do, my lord. 

Ham. Arm'd, say you ? 

AIL Arm'd, my lord. 

Ham.. From top to toe? 

All. My lord, from head to foot. 

Ham. Then saw you not his face ? 

Hor. O, yes, my lord ; he wore his beaver up. 

Hani. What, look'd he frowningly? 

Hor. A countenance more 

in sorrow than in anger. 

Ham. Pale, or -red? 

Hor. l^a,y, very pale. 

Ham. And fix'd his eyes upon you ? 

Hor. Most constantly. 

Ham. I would, I had been there. 

Hor. It would have much amaz'd you. 

Ham. Very like, 

Very like: Stay'd it long? 

lior. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. 

Hayn. His beard was grizzl'd ? no ? 

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, a sable-silver'd. 

Ham. I will watch to-night : 

Perchance, 'twill walk again. — Shakespeare. 


6. " It won't do to let John see me in this position," T said ; 
and so, with a mighty effort, I disengaged myself from the 
pack, flung off the blanket from around my neck, and seizing 
hold of a spruce limb, which I could fortunatety reach, drew 
m3^self slowly up. I had just time to jerk the rifle out of the 
mud, and fish up about half of the trout, when John came 
struggling along." 

'* John," said I, leaning unconcernedly against a tree, as if 
nothing had happened, — •" John, put down the boat, here's a 
splendid spot to rest." 

" Well, Mr. Murray," queried John, as he emerged fromj 
under the boat, " how are you getting along ?" 

" Capitally ! " said I ; " the carry is very level when you 
once get down to it. I felt a little out of breath, and I 
thought I would wait for you a few moments." 

"What's your boots doing up th^ere in that tree?" ex- 
claimed John, as he pointed up to where they hung dangling 
from the limb, about fifteen feet above our heads. 

"Boots doing!" said I, "why, they are hanging there, 
don't you see ? You did'nt suppose I'd drop them into this 
mud, did you?" 

"Why, no," replied John, "I don't suppose you would; 
but how about this? " continued he, as he stooped down and 
pulled a big trout, tail foremost, out of the soft muck ; " how 
did that trout come there? " 

" It must have got out of the pail somehow," I responded. 
" I thought I heard something drop just as I sat down." 

I thought John would split with laughter, but my time 
came, for as in one of his paroxysms he turned partly 
around, I saw that his back was covered with mud clear up 
to his hat. 

"Do you always sit down on your coat, John," I inquired, 
"when you cross a carry like this?" — IF. H. H. Murray. 

7. Now the laughing, jolly Spring began to show her 
buxom face in the bright morning. The buds began slowly to 
expand their close winter folds, the dark and melancholy 
woods to assume an almost imperceptible purple tint; and 
here and there a little chirping bluebird hopped about the 
orchards. Strips of fresh green appeared along the brooks, 
now released from their icy fetters ; and nests of little varie- 
gated flowers, nameless, yet richly deserving a name, sprang 
up in the sheltered recesses of the leafless woods. 


8. I cannot vouch my tale is true, 
Nor say, indeed, 'tis wholly new; 
But true or false, or new or old, 
I think you'll find it fairly told. 

A Frenchman, who had ne'er before 

Set foot upon a foreign shore, 

Weary of home, resolved to go 

And see what Holland had to show. 

He didn't know a word of Dutch, 

But that could hardly grieve him much; 

He thought, as Frenchmen always do, 

That all the world could " parley-voo." — /. G. Saxe. 

9. I know, the more one sickens, the worse at ease he is ; 
and that he that wants mone}^ means, and content, is without 
three good friends ; that the property of rain is to wet, and 
fire to burn ; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a 
great cause of the night is lack of the sun ; that he that 
hath learned no wit by nature or art may complain of good 
breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred. — Shakespeare. 

10. "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the 
ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and 
the man became a living soul." How wonderful is breath! 
It comes to us in the soft summer morning laden with the 
perfume of flowers; but ere it reaches us it has kissed a thou- 
sand scented leaves. The birds soar aloft in this mysterious 
ether, pouring their triumphal songs on its resonant bosom ; 
and the butterfly and buzzing insect, ''like winged flowers 
and flying gems," sparkle and shimmer in their dazzling 

But, whether it brings upon its waves the mutterings of the 
coming storm, or the merry, ringing laugh of childhood — the 
awful booming of the heavy cannonade, or the silvery tones 
of the violin — it is air, such as we breathe. Oh! then let it 
become a thing of joy to us. Let us learn to make it a thing 
of beauty, wreathing embodied thoughts in vocal gems of 
purity and sweetness, that shall gladden the ears of all who 
listen, — Bronson. 

11. External heat and cold had little influence on 
Scrooge. No warmth could warm, nor wintry weather chill 
him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling 
snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less 
open to entreaty. Foul weather didn't know where to have 


him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could 
boast of the advantage over him. in only one respect. They 
often " came down " handsomely, and Scrooge never did. — 

12. Oh, tell me, where did Katy live ? 

And what did Katy do ? 
And was she very fair and young, 

And yet so wicked, too ? 
Did Katy love a nanghty man. 

Or kiss more cheeks than one ? 
I warrant Katy did no more 

Than many a Kate has done. — 0. W. HolTnes. 

13. "And when the middle of the afternoon came, from 
being a poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, Tom 
Sawyer was literally rolling in wealth. He had, beside the 
things before mentioned, twelve marbles, part of a jew's-harp, 
a piece of blue-bottle glass, to look through, a spool cannon, a 
key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk, a 
glass-stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, 
six fire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass door- 
knob, a dog-collar — but no dog, the handle of a knife, four 
pieces of orange-peel, and a dilapidated old window-sash." — 
Mark Twain. 

14. Fill thou each hour with what will last ; 
Buy up the moments as they go : 
The life above, when this is past, 
Is the ripe fruit of life below. 

For further practice, use exercises under Simple Pure 
Quality, Medium Pitch, Medium Force and Medium Eate. 

For selections adapted to Conversational Eeading, see 
Elocutionist's Annual, jSTo. 1, pages 49, 82 and 101; !No. 2,^ 
pages 66 and 152 ; JSTo. 3, page 42 ; No. 5, page 34. 




With reference to Expression, Conversation may be defined 
the utterance of our own thoughts in our own words, to one 
or a few individuals. 

Reading is the utterance of the author's thought in the 
author's words, to one or many individuals. 

We use, in Conversation, the same voice or material, and 
the same forms of sound, and call into exercise the same 
thoughts, feelings and passions as in Reading. 

The Cultivation of these powers for Conversation will give 
them cultivation for Reading, and inasmuch as we converse 
more than we read, it is at once apparent that we have in 
Conversation the greater opportunity for their cultivation. 


The distinction between Conversation and Reading is two- 

First. — Reading carries us beyond the province of Conversation, 
when it is addressed to a large collection of persons. This dis- 
tinction involves the same consideration as the distinction 
between Conversation and Public Address, and will be treated 
under the next head. 

Second.-^The Second distinction is found in the mechanical 
difficulty of expressing the author's language as naturally as we 
do our own. We have observed that Conversation is the 
expression of thought in our own words. These words being 
chosen from our common vocabulary, are familiar to the 
organs of speech, and are, therefore, uttered without labored 

The same is true of conversational constructions. Such 
constructions are used as have become habitual to th« 


speaker, and the mechanical labor of their utterance i? 
avoided. In Reading, words and constructions are often 
foreign to the habit of the speaker, and their expression must 
necessarily manifest, at first, the mechanism of their utter- 
ance. It is, therefore, necessary, in Reading, to give that 
practice to the language which will render the utterance as 
familiar as that of our common Conversation. 

Note. — From the above, it is proper to observe that skill in reading at sight 
can be acquired only by the habitual use of the words in common usage, and bj 
familiarity with the various styles of written language. This suggests the im- 
portance of a broad vocabulary in familiar speech and of much reading aloud 
from writers of good style. 


It has been shown in the above discussion, that when the 
authors language has become as familiar as our own there will 
exist a perfect analogy between Conversation and Reading. 
It has also been previously shown that Conversation is the 
original and natural source of all true expression. We will, 
therefore, find in correct and natural Conversation the 
truest and purest models from which to copy in our Reading. 

As the landscape or forest will furnish the painter original 
models for his art, so will Conversation furnish original 
models of sentiment, emotion and passion for the Reader's 
art. In reading, therefore, we should express the language of the 
author as we would utter the same language under the same cir- 
cumstances in pure conversation. 

Note 1.— In Impersonation, the Reader will necessarily depart from the basis 
of his own Conversation to the imitation of the character impersonated. 

Note 2. — Intelligent Reading presupposes that the Reader comprehend the 
thought, and that in its expression he sympathize with the author's meaning; 
these requirements precede the expression of language under all circunustancea. 




Eead carefully the corresponding discussion under the 
previous topic ; it has the same force and bearing in the 
treatment of this division of the subject. 


Conversation and Public Address both concern the con- 
veyance of thought to the individual. 

The distinction consists only in the greater accuracy and 
intensity necessary in Public Address to overcome the ob- 
stacles of number and space. 

This refers to the distinction between the delivery of the 
same sentence before the multitude, and its delivery to a 
single individual. Passages, differing in sentiment, will be 
expressed differently in Conversation, and will preserve a cor- 
responding difference if delivered 'publicly. 


European guides know about enough English to tangle 
everything up, so that a man can make neither head nor 
tail of it. They know their story by heart, — the history of 
every statue, painting, cathedral or other wonder they show 
yfju. They know it and tell it as a parrot would,— and if 
you interrupt and throw them off the track, they have to go 
back and begin over again. All their lives long the)' are 
employed in showing strange things to foreigners and listen- 
ing to their bursts of admiration. — '^Innocents Abroad" — 
Mark Twain. 

England may as well dam up the waters of the Nile with 
bulrushes as to fetter the step of Freedom, more proud and 
firm in this youthful land than where she treads the seques- 


tered glens of Scotland, or couches herself among the mag- 
nificent mountains of Switzerland. — Speech of James Otis. 

• But this very day, an honest man, my neighbor — there 
he stands — was struck — struck like a dog, by one who wore 
the badge of Ursini, because, forsooth, he tossed not high 
his ready cap in air, nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts, 
at sight of that great ruffian ! — Rienzi to the Romans. 

We have here three sentences difi'ering widely in character 
and demanding difi"erent forms of expression ; the difference, 
however, exists in the sentences themselves — the first being 
simply conversational, the second bold and oratorical, the 
third impassioned and dramatic. 

This difference will manifest itself in their utterance in 
familiar discourse, where the key to their individual expression 
will be found. Their delivery before the audience will in- 
volve no other distinction than that of increased accuracy 
and intensity. In each case the Conversational form, peculiar 
to the sentence, should be carefully preserved. 

As the picture thrown upon the screen is preserved in 
form, but magnified in all its proportions, so in public 
speech, care should be exercised to preserve the natural or 
conversational form, while, in due proportion of voice and 
manner, there is added earnestness and intensity. 

NoTK.— Every student should make himself familiar -with the following : 

Guide to Public Address. — The manner of expression by 
which I may convey a thought most impressively to a single 
individual, will best convey it to two ; the only change dic- 
tated by nature or reason being such simple change as the 
alternation of the eye from one to the other. The same 
manner of expression will best convey the same thought to a 
dozen, with the necessary change in intensity of voice and 
gesture; this individual basis will furnish the most impres- 
iive form for the utterance of the same sentiment to a 


thousand, supplemented by a power of voice and oamest- 
nesa of gesture adapted to the number and the space. 

Remarks. — Audiences are made up of individual souls, 
not one of which loses its individual character because in 
juxtaposition with another. The soul of an audience can only 
be reached by reaching the individual souls that compose it. 
An individual being addressed, each person regards himself 
the individual, and accordingly appropriates the thought; and 
each having received the thought, all have received it. We 
submit that there is no one fault among public speakers 
more common, or one more baneful than the habit of 
addressing a mass of individuals as if their souls had also 
massed, and that, therefore, they must resort to some unnat- 
ural and monstrous means of access to it. 


Conversation being the source of all true expression, it 
must be at once apparent that we shall here find our highest 
models for Public Speech, needing only enlargement accord- 
ing to the demand. Pure, chaste Conversation is at once 
the highest Oratory, and true Oratory should be so lost in pure 
simplicity that it shall be but noble Conversation. 


Conversation is natural communication to the individual. 
All speech is natural communication to the individual; 
therefore all speech is Conversation. Reading and Public 
Address are but modified forms of Conversation, and are so 
closely allied to it that excellence in Conversation will se- 
cure excellence in Reading and Public Address. 


It 'Has been shown that the germs of Elocution are found 
native in pure Conversation. Principles will concern the 
processes of their growth and development. These germs 
are found in Speech and Gesture, which are the two grea^ 
jnediums of communication. 


Speech is the most direct and the most important instru- ' 
ment for the conveyance of thought. By it men are put in 
possession of the thoughts and experiences of their fellow- 
men, so that the development of mind itself may be said to 
depend greatly upon Speech. 

The organs uniting in its production are the vocal organs 
for voice, the organs of speech for articulation, and the mteU 
lectual and emotional faculties for expression. Hence the 
subdivisions — Voice, Articulation, Expression. 

Note. — The term organs of speech, as applied here, is used in its technical 
sense, and includes, prominently, the lips, tongue, teeth, palate and nasal 


Voice is the principal material of which speech is made. 
Its cultivation is closely related to the whole subject of 
Elocution, and therefore claims the most careful attention 
of the student. 

The cultivation of the Voice will depend upon judicious 



exercise, in harmony with the natural law of human de 

Intelligent investigation and broad experience have estab- 
lished the fact that voice is the product of a physical 
' mechanism, as well-defined as the muscles of the arm or the 
tissue of the brain, and that its development follows a law of 
our being, as simple and as natural as that by which the 
arm moves or the brain thinks. 

It is, however, worthy of observation that the voice does 
not ordinarily receive power or culture, even from the 
most constant exercise, but it does not follow that it therefore 
departs from the recognized law of development, but rather 
that the customary habits of its use are unwise, mistaken, 
and founded in ignorance of its structure. The operations 
of the vocal instrument are so subtle and the liability to false 
practice so great, that it becomes a matter of primary impor- 
tance that the student be directed to its use in his earliest 
exercises. To this end voice is here presented, in its theory 
and practice, under the two heads. Philosophy of Voice and 


Philosophy of Voice concerns the structure of the instrument, 
itszise, and its management, and therefore includes its anatomy, 
physiology and hygiene. 

Voice is the result of the vibratory motion produced by 
the action of breath upon the vocal cords. The parts imme- 
diately involved are therefore the Organs of Respiration and 
the Vocal Cords. 

The lungs may be properly regarded as the centre of the 
Respiratory System. They are the great reservoirs, where the 
^ motive power of the Voice is concentrated. 

Directly beneath and immediately connected with the 
'*«ng3 is the diaphragm, or movable wall of muscular partition 
fi.vtween the cavity of the chest and the cavity of the abdo- 
toen. This, together with the abdominal muscles, which 
Owntrol its movements, may be compared to the handle of 


a bellows, of which the lungs constitute the body. The 
application of power to these muscles, either in the act 
of breathing or speaking, is immediately communicated 
-to the lungs, causing the escape of air, or exhalation. The 
corresponding inhalation is controlled by the relo^xation of 
these muscles and the consequent depression of the dia- 
phragm. Their proper action constitutes the primary power 
of respiration, and therefore bears an important relation to 
the production of tone. 

Above the lungs, and connected with them by the trachea 
or windpipe, is that wonderful conformation of cartilages 
muscles and ligaments, known as the Larynx, in which are 
located the Vocal Cords, whence all tone or voice immediately 

The Vocal Cords consist of two slight, elastic bands, situated 
in the larynx a short distance above its juncture with the 
trachea, and immediately below its outward projection, 
known as the "Adam's apple." These bands adhere so 
closely to the walls of the throat as to be scarcely distin- 
guishable by the aid of the laryngoscope; but in the act of 
voice production they are thrown forward into the current 
of air escaping from the lungs, and the thin membrane 
covering their surface is thus excited to rapid vibration, 
which, receiving resonance and volume from the cavity of 
the chest and from the mouth, escapes from the lips a per- 
fect creation — voice. 


From the preceding brief explanation, it will be easily 
understood that the parts of the system involved in the pro- 
duction of voice are, in the order of their use, the Abdomi- 
nal Muscles, the Lungs, and the Vocal Cords. The cavity of 
the mouth also contributes much to the purity and richness 
of the tone. These several parts exist in every perfect 
organization, and may be termed the muscular implements 
of the human voice. 


Utterance is the technical term given to all sounds emana» 
ting from this vocal instrument, whether whispered or vocal, 
and is the result of the opposition offered to the escape of 
the air-current, by the projection of the vocal cords across 
the trachea. Utterance, therefore, implies such an applica- 
tion of breath upon the vocal cords, and such control of 
them, as to produce sound or voice. It may be regarded 
simply as practical voice-production, and will be treated 
with reference to its development and its quality. 


A well-developed voice imparts force and dignity to every 
relation of life. It is the first step toward culture in the art 
of Elocution. The distinctive aim in vocal development is 
to secure thsit purity, power smd Jiexibility which must unite 
to give character to the voice. 

Rapid and healthful development will depend upon correct 
breathing, combined with judicious, systematic and vigorous 
vocal and physical exercise. 


Respiration or breathing is defined as the process by which 
air is taken into the lungs and. expelled from them. It' is 
the miotive power of the voice. The following seems a 
natural order of treatment : 

a. What we breathe. 

5. Why we breathe. 

c. How we breathe. 

d. Breathing exercises. 

What we "breathe. — Health, happiness and existence itself 
dex^end upon the quality of air we breathe. Pure air alone 
can promote natural activity and buoyancy in the physica^ 


Why we breathe. — We breathe to supply the system with 
oxygen ; to releave the body of waste and useless matter, and 
for the purposes of speech — breathing being the great agent of 
human utterance. Respiration also promotes the healthy devel- 
opment of the parts by which it is earned on. The intercostal 
muscles are afforded exercise by breathing; the lungs are 
rendered capacious and flexible ; the muscles of the waist 
and back are strengthened, and the whole body is given 
added symmetry and comeliness. 

How we breathe. — Healthful respiration is carried on through 
the nostrils. This is illustrated, notably, in the breathing of 
animals, savages, and healthy children. The throat and lungs 
are thus protected from the impurities and severity of the 
atmosphere, either of which tends to produce irritation and 

By the habit of deep and full inspiration. Every part within 
the whole range of the respiratory system should be ex- 
erted with each successive breath. Exercise is a condition 
of health and strength as absolute as food or air itself. 
Failing for a time to exercise any part of this marvellous 
organism, we have weakened the part in proportion to the 
time it has been inactive. Weakness begets weakness and 
diminished lung power will impair both the quality and the 
power of the voice. 


1. Chest Breathing. — Relax the muscles of the chest. Take' 
A full inspiration and expand the chest to its fullest capacity, 
^ive out the breath gradually. 

2. Costal Breathing. — Distend the sides while inhaling and 
relax gradually with slow and regular exhalation. 

3. Waist Breathing. — Inhale with the view of expanding 
the entire circle of the waist. 

4. Dorsal Breathing. — Inhale as if endeavoring to thrust 
out the muscles of the back by the force of the air. 

5. Abdominal Breathing. — Breathe deeply, forcing the 


abdominal muscles outward. Let them sink as much as 
possible during exhalation. 

6. Full Breathing. — Inhale slowly and exercise the will 
upon all parts of the body, simultaneously. This may be 
regarded a union of all the previous exercises, and is but an 
intensified form of what should be the natural habit of 

7. Prolonged Breathing. — Prolong the exercise of Full 

8. Effusive Breathing. — Inhale naturally. Give out the 
breath in the sound of the letter h, as gently and gradually 
as possible. 

9. Expulsive Breathing. — Inhale as in Full Breathing and 
expel the air forcibly but gradually upon the sound of the 
letter h. 

10. Explosive Breathing. — Take full breath, expel suddenly 
and with force in a whispered utterance of the word Ha, 

Note 1 — An active position should be observed in the above exercises, the 
body carefully erect, arms akimbo, and fingers bearing upon the abdominal 
muscles, except as they may be changed to the part upon which the exercise is 

Note 2. — These exercises should be used with as much caution and regularity 
as any other gymnastic exercise. They should be commenced gradually and 
discontinued if any sensation of dizziness is experienced. It will be observed 
that the series is progressive in its character, giving it special advantage to 
persons not accustomed to habits of full breathing, and to invalids. 


The following table of Vocal Exercises is designed to rep- 
resent the principal forms which the voice assumes in 
response to the various classes of sentiment and passion. 
Let it be understood, however, that these forms are ever 
changing in degree and direction. Nature rarely repeats 
herself with mathematical exactness. The leaves of the tree 
are of a kind, but not alike. Members of a family frequently 
resemble one another, but never is the likeness of one ex- 
actly reproduced in another. So the countenance of a person 


not only changes under different impressions and emotions, 
but an impression repeated will rarel}^ repeat itself exactly 
upon the countenance. 

No arbitrary form for the voice is therefore suggested by 
these characters, but if disciplined to produce readily, and^ 
in pure quality, the several forms here suggested, it will 
respond naturally to corresponding sentiments and emotions. 
They should be practiced until the speaker can produce 
them easily and confidently in any order and in any degree. 
This done, they will then take their place in speech, without 
effort, as promptly as the countenance will lighten in the 
presence of an unexpected friend, or darken at sudden dis' 
appointment or sorrow. 


1. AEIOn • • • • • I^Taturally. 

2. AEIOU d © 6 9 • "With Fvdl Force. 
A E I O U c Alternating Higk 

O U C 

O U } 

3 . 

I. A E I O TJ ( and Low. 

4. AEIOU —^1^^—— Effusively; 

5. AEIOU ^^^^»wp Expulsively. 

6. AEIOU ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ Explosively. 

7. AEIOU '^^^j/U^^^^ "With SwelL 

8. AEIOU BEHi^nH^BB "With Sustained Force. 
0. AEIOU -^^ - "With Tremor. 

10. A B I O U ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ With Full Breathing. 



1. Natural. — Place the organs of speech in correct posi- 
tion for the sound to be uttered. The vocal cords will 
take their place without any conscious act. The natural 
flow of the air in exhalation will produce the purest tone of 
which the organs are capable, and in the simplest manner. 
The correct use of the breath will be determined by a slight 
depression of the abdominal muscles and the barely con- 
scious stroke of the diaphragm upon the lower part of the 
lungs. To produce a pure tone, the lower jaw should be 
slightly projected, the throat well opened. This will be 
shown by a greater fullness in the outer muscles. 

The greatest care should he observed in this exercise, inasmuch 
as future vocalization will depend upon the correctness of these 
natural sounds. 

2. With Full Force. — Apply the abdominal muscles with 
full force upon the diaphragm, so that the volume of air 
may be brought to bear with great power upon the vocal 
cords. This action should not be abrupt or violent, but firm 
and decisive. 

3. High and Low. — It is designed here to apply the pre- 
ceding two exercises at different points within the natural 
compass of the voice. It is not designed to anticipate the 
more thorough cultivation of pitch as a special modulation. 

4. Effusive. — This exercise consists in the pouring forth or 
effusing of the simplest natural tone. 

5. Expulsive. — With a forcible action of the abdominal 
muscles and well-expanded chest, strike the tone as in Full 
Force, but let the volume of sound diminish more gradually. 

6. Explosive. — Strike the diaphragm with violent and 
abrupt action of the abdominal muscles, and aim to produce 
a burst of voice which shall fall upon the ear clear and sud- 

7. With 5?frZZ.— Beginning with Effusive, expand slowly to 
the degree of Full Force, releasing the action as gradually 


ag it was begun. Purity and regularity in the increase an^ 
decrease of the tone will report the correctness of the physi- 
cal action. 

8. With Sustained Force. — Exert the muscles of the body 
as in Full Force. Hold them firm and steady, terminating 
the tension abruptly. 

9. Tremor. — Prolong the sounds, either in Natural or Full 
Force, making the voice tremulous by a corresponding 
action of the muscles of the chest. 

10. With Full Breathing. — Concentrate the greatest possi- 
ble force upon a single tone — more violent than in Full 
Force and less abrupt than in Explosive. The utterance 
should be preceded by a full inhalation and then produced 
by such a culmination of power as could not be sustained or 
repeated without renewed breath. 

The student should remeviber that, in order to obtain the best 
results from these exercises, there should be in each a corresponding 
action of the mind. 

In the natural, the thought should be unimpassioned. In 
full force, there should be great purpose in the mind. In 
high and low, there should be some corresponding mental 
condition of joy or victory in the one, and solemnity or awe 
in the other. The Effusive should be marked by a spirit of 
reflective tenderness; the explosive, by impulsive vehemence ; 
the swell, by an expansion of mind and soul. In sustained force, 
the thought should be sustained with the exercise. In tremor, 
the whole being should at once be possessed with the sense 
of pity, grief, or deep sympathy. In fidl breathing, there 
should be the greatest possible concentration of soul power. 
And in all, from the most natural, to the most violent, there 
should be repose and self-possession, so that the exercise 
may be the result of the best condition of mind and body. 

KoTE. — The following exercises should be practiced until the student can 
promptly mark the distinctions illustrated in the foregoing table. 



1. Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, 
■^'hile the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when 
thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them; while the sun, 
or the light, or the moon, or the stnrs, be not darkened nor 
the clouds return after the rain. — Bible. 

2. The grass is just as green, Tom ; bare-footed boys at 

Were sporting, just as we did then, with spirits just as 

But the "master" sleeps upon the hill, which, coated 

o'er with snow, 
Afiforded us a sliding-place, some forty years ago. 

3. Prudence, indeed, will dictate, that governments long 
established should not be changed for light and transient, 
causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that 
mankind are more disposed to sulfer while evils are snffera- 
ble, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to 
which they are accustomed. But when a long train of 
abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, 
evinces a design to reduce them under absokite despotism, it 
is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, 
and to provide new guards for their future security. 

— Declaration of Independence. 

4. She thanked me. 

And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, 
I should but teach him how to tell my story, 
And that would woo her. On this hint I spake; 
She loved me for the dangers I had passed ; 
And I loved her that she did pity them. 
This is thtj only witchcraft which I've used. 

— Shakspeare, 

5. Merrily swinging on brier and weed, 

Near to the nest of his little dame. 
Over the mountain-side or mead, 

Bobert of Lincoln is telling his name. 

— William Cidlen Bryant. 


For additional examples of Natural, use selections of sim- 
ple narrative and plain description. 


1. Meantime, the tramp, tramp, tramp, sounds on, — the 
tramp of sixty thousand yearly victims. Some are besotted 
and stupid, some are wild with hilarity, and dance along the 
dusty way, some reel along in pitiful weakness, some wreaii 
their mad and murderous impulses on the helpless women 
and children whose destinies are united to theirs, some go 
bound in chains from which they seek in vain to wrench 
their bleeding wrists, and all are poisoned in body and soul, 
and all are doomed to death. — J. G. Holland. 

2. Build me straight, worthy Master I 

Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel, 
That shall laugh at all disaster, 

And with wave and whirlwind wrestle ! 

— H. W. Longfellow. 

3. He stood, and measured the earth : he beheld and 
drove asunder the nations ; and the everlasting mountains 
were scattered, the perpetual hills did bow : his ways are 
everlasting. — Bible. 

4. From hill to hill the mandate flew, 
From lake to lake the tempest grew, 

With wakening swell, 
Till proud oppression crouched for shame, 
And Austria's haughtiness grew tame; 
And Freedom's watchword was the name 

Of William Tell. 

5. And, sir, where American liberty raised its first voice, 
and where its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still 
lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of its original 
spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it — if party 
strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it ; if folly 
and madness, if uneasiness under salutary and necessary re- 
straint, shall succeed to separate it from that Union by which 
alone its existence is made sure, it will stand, in the end, by 
the side of that cradle in which its infancy was rocked ; and 


it will fall at last, if fall it must, amid the proudest monu' 
jnents of its own glory, and on the very spot of its origin. 

— Webster, 

w For selections containing additional examples of Full 
Force, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 1, page 107 ; No. 2, 
page 17 ; No. 5, page 92. 


" Make w^ay for liberty ! " he cried. 

Then ran, with arms extended wide, 

As if his dearest friend to clasp ; 

Ten spears he swept within his grasp. 
*' Make way for liberty ! " he cried ; 

Their keen points crossed from side to side ; 

He bowed among them like a tree, 

Andjhus made way for liberty. 

— James Montgomery, 

EternitjM — thou pleasing, — dreadful thought! 
Through what variety of untried being, 
Through what new scenes and changes must we pass! 
The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me ; 
But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it. 

— Addison. 

" John Maynard," with an anxious voice, 

The captain cries once more, 
" Stand by the wheel five minutes yet. 

And we will reach the shore." 

4. 'Tis now the very witching time of night ; 

When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out 
Contagion to this world. , — Shakspeare. 

5. Liberty ! Freedom ! Tyranny is dead I — 
Hun hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. 

— Shakspeare. 

C. We spend our years like a tale that is told. The days 


of our years are three-score years and ten ; and if by reason 
of strength they be four-score years, yet is their strength 
labor and sorrow ; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away. 


7. He conquers the current, he gains on the sea, — ^ 
Ho, where is the swimmer Uke CharUe Machree. 

— William J. Hoppin, 

8. Kot a word, not a wail from a lip was let fall, 
Not a kiss from my bride, not a look or low call 
Of love-note or courage, but on o'er the plain 
So steady and still, leaning low to the mane, 

Eode we on, rode we three, rode we nose and grey nose. 
Beaching long, breathing loud, like a creviced wind 

blows ; 
Yet we broke not a whisper, we breathed not a prayer, 
There was work to be done, there was death in the air. 

— Joaquin Miller. 

9. Hushed the people's swelling murmur, 

Whilst the boy cries joyously ; 
"Ring!" he shouts, " King ! grandpapa, 
Eing! oh, ring for Liberty ! " 

10. " Ho ! a sail ! Ho ! a sail ! " cried a man at the lea, 
"Ho! a sail!" and they turned their glad eyes o'er 

the sea. 
"They see us, they see us, the signal is waved ! 
They bear down upon us, they bear down upon us : 
Huzza! we are saved." 

For selections containing additional examples of High and 
Low, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 2, page 63 ; No. 1, pag© 
67 ; No. 3, page 31 ; No. 5, page 44. 


All in the wild March-morning, I heard the angels call ; 
It was when the moon was setting, and the dark was 

over all ; 
The trees began to whisper, and the wind began to roll, 
And in the wild March-morning I heard them call my 

soul. — Tennyson. 


2. All day they flew, and all night they flew and flew, till 
they found a hind where there was no winter — where there 
was summer nil the time; Avhere flowers always blossom, and 
birds always sing. — Henry Ward Beecher. 

3. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 

Thou art not so unkind 
As man's ingratitude ; 

Thy tooth is not so keen, 
Because thou art not seen. 

Although thy breath be rude. 

— Shakspeare. 

4. And he showed me a pure river of water of life, cleai 
as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the 
Lamb. — Bible. 

5. How often, oh, how often, 

In the d;iys that had gone by, 
I had stood on that bridge at midnight 
And gazed on that wave and sky 1 

How often, oh, how often, 

I had wished that the ebbing tide 

Would bear me away on its bosom 
O'er the ocean wild and wide ! 

— Longfellow : " The Bridgt.** 

6. In a little while the knell for each one of us will cease, 
and we will slumber wiih our fathers. But with Christian 
faith we can see light even in the darkness of the tomb. 
From above come voices of loved ones calling us heaven- 
ward ; and, listening, we long for the land of golden streets, 
celestial light, and unfading glory. — Edward Brooks. 

7. And friends, dear friends, when it shall be 
That this low breath is gone from nie, 
And round my bier ye come to weep, 
Let one, most loving of you all, 

Say, " Not a tear must o'er her fall ; 
He giveth His beloved sleep." 

— 3Irs. Browning^ 

For selections containing additional examples of Efl*usive, 
see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 5, page 78 ; No. 3, page 9 ; No. 
1, pages 139 and 159 ; No. 6, page 83. 



1. But it can not, shall not be; this great woe to our 
beloved country, this catastrophe for the cause of national 
freedom, this grievous calamity for the whole civilized world, 
it can not be, it shall not be. No, by the glorious Nineteenth of 
April, 1775 ; no, by the precious blood of Bunker Hill, of 
Princeton, of Saratoga, of King's Mountain, of Yorktown; 
no, by the dear immortal memory of Washington, — that sor- 
row and shame shall never be. — E. Everett, 

2. And there shall be no night there ; and they need no 
candle, neither light of the sun ; for the Lord God giveth 
them light : and they shall reign for ever and ever. — Bible, 

8. Friends : I come not here to talk. Ye know too well 
The story of our thralldom; — we are slaves I 
The bright sun rises to his course, and lights 
A race of slaves ! He sets, and his last beam 
Falls on a slave ! — M. R. Mitford. 

4. Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my 
hand and my heart to this vote ! Sir, before God I believe 
the hour is come. My judgment approves this measure; 
and my whole heart is in it. All that I have, and all that 
I am, and all that I hope in this life, I am now ready to stake 
upon it; and I leave off as I began, that, live or die, sur- 
vive or perish, I am for the declaration. It is my living senti- 
ment, and, by the blessing of God, it shall be my dying senti- 
ment: — Independence now, and independence forever I 
— Daniel Webster : John Adams. 

For selections containing additional example of Expulsive 
* Force, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 2, page 40 ; No. 6, p^ge 
109; No. 1, pages 146 and 156. 


' Down ! down ! " cried Mar, " your lances down ! 
Bear back both friend and foe I " 

—Walter Scott, 


2. My fate cries out, 

And makes each petty artery in this body 
As hardy as the Neniean Uoii's nerve. — 
Still am I cahed ; — unhand me, gentlemen :— 
I say away : — Go on, I'll follow thee. 

— Shakspeare, 

8. Ko! thus I rend the tyrant's chain, 

And fling him back a boy's disdain ! 

— Ann S. Stephens, 

4. The British advance. " Xow upon the rebels, charge T" 
shouts the red-coat officer. They spring forward at the same 
bound. Look ! their bayonets almost touch the muzzles of 
their rifles. At this moment the voice of the unknown rider 
was heard : " Now let them have it ! Fire ! " 

— Charles Sheppard, 

5. Up with your ladders ! Quick ! 'tis but a chance ! Be- 
hold, how fast the roaring flames advance I Quick ! quick ! 
brave spirits, to his rescue fly ; Up I up 1 men ! all ! this 
hero must not die ! — Geo. M. Baker. 

"For selections containing additional examples in Explo- 
sive, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 1, page 107 ; Ko. 4, page 
80 ; No. 2, page 91. 


1. Oh I Thou Eternal One ! whose presence bright 

All space doth occupy — all motion guide ; 
Unchanged through time's all-devastating flight, 
Thou, only, God ! There is no God beside. 

2. Lord thou hast been our dwelling place in all genera- 
tions. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever 
thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from 
everlasting to everlasting, thou art God. — Bible. 

3. lonely tomb in Moab's land I 
O dark Beth-peor's hill ! 
Speak to these curious hearts of ouri, 
And teach them to be still. 


God hath his mysteries of grace, — 

Ways that we cannot tell ; 
He hides them deep, like the secret sleep 

Of him he loved so well. — C. F. Alexander. 

4. What a piece of work is a man I How noble in reason I 
how infinite in Acuities ! in form and moving, how express 
and admirable ! in action, how like an angel ! in apprehen- 
sion, how like a god ! the beauty of the world I the paragon 
of animals ! — Shakspeare. > 

5. And you, ye storms, howl out his greatness ! Let your 
thunders roll like drums in the march of the God of armies! 
Let your lightnings write his name in fire on the midnight 
darkness ; let the illimitable void of space become one mouth 
for song ; and let the unnavigated ether, through its shore- 
less depths, bear through the infinite remote the name ol 
hini whose goodness endureth forever ! — Spurgeon, 

For selections containing additional examples of Swell, see 
Elocutionist's Annual, No. 6, page 133 ; No. 1, page 125; No, 
2, page 20 ; No. 5, page 9. 


And lo ! from the assembled crowd, 

There rose a shout prolonged and loud, 

That to the ocean seemed to say, — 

" Take her, O bridegroom, old and gray ; 

Take her to thy protecting arras. 

With all her youth, and all her charms ! " 

H. W. Longfellcm. 

" Ho ! sound the tocsin from my tower, and fire the 

culverin ; 
Bid each retainer arm with speed; call every vassal in !" 

— Albert G. Greene. 

Ring the alarum-bell : — Murder and treason I 
Banquo, and Donabain 1 Malcolm ! awake ' 
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, 
And look on death itself ! — up, up, and see 


The great doom's image — Malcolm ! Banqno ! 

As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprighta, 

To countenance this horror ! 

O Banquo ! Banquo ! — Shakspeare. 

4. And now the martyr is moving in triumphal march, 
mightier than when alive. — H. W. Beecher. 

5. Ye call me chief; and ye do well to call him chief, who, 
for twelve long years, has met upon the arena every shape of 
man or beast the broad empire of Eome could furnish, and 
who never yet lowered his arm. — E. Kellogg. 

For selections containing additional examples of Sustaicsd 
Force, see Elocutionist's Annual, JS'o. 6, page 111; No. 4, 
page 121 ; No. 3, page 93. 


1, Farewell ! a long farewell ! to all my greatness. 


2. " Can he desert us thus ? He knows I stay, 

Night after night in loneliness, to pray 
For his return — and yet he has no tear ! 
No ! No ! It cannot be! He will be here! " 

— Coates. 

3. We buried the old year in silence and sadness. To 
many it brought misfortune and affliction. The wife hath 
given her husband and the husband his wife at its stern be^ 
hest; the father hath consigned to its cold arms the son in 
whom his life centered, and the mother hath torn from her 
bosom her tender babe and buried it and her heart in the 
cold, cold ground. — Edward Brooks. 

4, Vital spark of heavenlj- flame, 
Quit, O quit this mortal frame I 
Trembhng, hoping, lingering, flying. 
Oh ! the pain, the bliss of dying ! 
Cease fond Nature, cease thy strife, 
And let me languish into life ! 

^-Alexander Pope, 


5. Save me, God, for the waters are come in unto my 
soui. I sink in deep mire where there is no standing : I 
am come into deep water where the floods overflow me. I 
am weary of my crying - my throat is dried : mine eyed fail 
while I wait for my God.— Bible. 

For selections containing additional examples of Tremor, 
see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 2, pages 9 and 151 ; No. 5, 
page 14 ; Nu. 1, page 113. 


t. I listened, but I could not hear— 
I called, for I was wild with fear ; 
I knew 'twas hopeless, but my dread 
Would not be thus admonished ; — ■ 
I called and thought I heard a sound, 
I burst my chain with one strong bound, 
And rushed to him. — Byron. 

2. Rouse, ye Romans ! rouse, ye slaves ! 

Have ye brave sons ? Look in the next fierce brawl, 
To see them die I — Mitford. 

8. Here I stand for impeachment or trial I I dare accu- 
sation ! I defy the honorable gentleman I, I dety the gov- 
ernment! I defy their whole phalanx 1 Let them come 
forth. — Grattan. 

4. Hence: home, 3^ou idle creatures, get you homei 
You blocks, yoQ stones, you worse than senseleai 
things ! " — Shakspeare. 

For selections containing additional examples of Full 
Breathing, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 6, page 21 ; No. 4, 
page 124 ; No. 1, page 146. 




Physical force and muscular elasticity are indispensable to 
high attainment in vocal development. A vigorous and 
flexible tone can only be produced within a flexible and 
vigorous body. Vigor and flexibility of body are depend- 
ent upon exercise. It is a condition of professional life 
to lack opportunity of such manual labor as will develop 
strength of body. Even if manual labor were associated 
with intellectual, it would not give that symmetry of form 
and grace of movement so necessary to the speaker. Ex- 
ercises for the cultivation of physical strength and of ease 
in movement, were held in high esteem by the ancients, 
and are latterly receiving a degree of that attention which 
they deserve. 

The following exercises have been selected and adapted 
from Prof. Welch's System of Physical Culture. Such 
exercises have been taken from the different series of Free 
Gymnastics as are believed to be the best aids in the develop- 
ment of strength of voice and grace of action. 



No. of Strains 



, , 




, , 














^ , 




• • 





• 4 



Twisted Thrusts, 

, , 




Touching fl(K)r with Hands, . 



S»vaying, Swingir 

g Arms, • 







Hand Movements down and up, 



Hand Movements at Sides, 



Eaising Arms, 



Swinging Arms back, 



Eaising Shoulders, 



Elbows back, 

. 1 


Thrusting from Arm-pits, , 



Thrasting from Shoulders, 



Mast Movement, 





IToTE 1. Position. — Heels together ; toes out, so that the feet may form a 
right angle ; head erect ; shoulders and hips drawn back ; chest forward ; hanoa 
naturally at sides, unless otherwise specified. 

Note 2. Ti?»e.— The system of numbering in the exercises is this : each 
number extends through what may be called one strain of 4-4 music, or eight 
accented and eight unaccented beats; a^id the time is kept by counting the 
numerals from one to eight for the heavy beats, and for the light beats the 
syllable " and." 

Note 3. The hands are to be firmly clinched, unless on the hips or other- 
wise specified. All thrusts are from the chest unless otherwise specified. 



1. Thrust right hand down from the chest twice; leA 
twice ; alternate twice ; simultaneous twice. 

2. Eepeat JSTo. 1, thrusting out at side. 

3. Eepeat No. 1, thrusting up. 

4. Eepeat No. 1, thrusting in front. 

5. Eight hand down once; left once; drum-beat (right a 
little in advance of left) once ; simultaneous once ; same 
out at sides. 


G. Hepeat No. 5, thrusting up and in front. 

7. Pti.L^ht hand down once; left once; clap hands; same 
out at sides. 

8. Repeat No. 7, up and in front. 


9. Hands on hips; twist upper body half round to right, 
then to left, and repeat, stopping each time in front on the 
unaccented beats. 

10. Bend upper body to right and left and repeat. 

11. Bend forward, then back, and repeat. 

12. Bend body to right, back, left, front; then reverse, 
bending to left, back, right, becoming erect only on last 


13. Same as 9, except that the head alone is moved. 

14. Same as 10, 

15. Same as 11, " 

16. Same as 12, " " " " 


17. Arms extended in front, thumbs up, raise hands 
about a foot, and bring forcibly to shoulders. 

18. Arms horizontal in front; raise right hand to perpen- 
dicular over head twice; left twice; alternate twice, and 
simultaneous twice. 


10. Thrust hands down, out at sides, up in front, twisting 
the arms at each thrust ; repeat three times. 


20. Thrust hands to floor, not bending knees ; then ovei 
head, rising on toes, opening hands at each thrust. 


21. Stamp left foot, then right; then charge diagonally 
forward with right ; bend and straighten right knee ; at same 
time throwing arms back from horizontal in front. 

22. Repeat No. 21, on left side. 

23. Repeat Xo. 21, diagonally backward on right side. 

24. Repeat No. 21, diagonally backward on left side. 



1. Thrust right hand down and up alternately through 
eight beats. 

2. Repeat No, 1 with left hand. 

3. Alternate, right going down as left goes up, and vice 

4. Simultaneous, both down, then both up. 


5. Thrust right hand to right and left alternately through 
one strain, twisting body when thrusting to left. 

6. Repeat No. 5 with left hand. 

7. Thrust both hands alternately to right and left, twisting 

8. Thrust both hands to right four timeS; to left four times. ' 


ft. Hands down at sides : raise stiff right arm forward over 


head four times ; left four times; alternate four times ; simul- 
taneous four times. 

10. Eaise stiff right arm sideways over head four times ; 
left four times ; alternate four times ; simultaneous four times, 


11. Arms extended in front ; swing them back horizon- 


12. Hands at sides ; raise right shoulder four times ; left 
four times ; alternate four times ; simultaneous four times. 


13. Hands on hips ; throw elbows back. 


14. Fists in arm-pits; Thrust right down four times; 
left four times ; alternate four times ; simultaneous four times 

15. Fists upon the shoulders ; repeat No. 14 thrusting 


16. Hands over head ; sway body to right and left alter- 


17. Hands on hips, stamp left foot, then right; charge 
diagonally forward with right, looking over left shoulder. 

18. Repeat No. 17, diagonally forward, left foot, 

19. Repeat No. 17, diagonally back, right. 

20. Repeat No. 17, diagonally back, left. 



Tlie marvellous capacity of the human voice arises from 
irs adaptation to the ever-changing phases of human ex- 
pression. Under careful culture it attunes itself to the 
almost infinite diversity of thought and feeling. The term 
" quality," when applied to tone, indicates those distinctive 
properties or characteristics which the voice should assume 
under these varying influences. These qualities constitute, of 
themselves, an unmistakable language, more potent even 
than words, and should be carefully cultivated by the student 
as the very alphabet of expression. Thought and emotion, 
as the direct emanations of the heart, embrace not only the 
true, the beautiful, and the good, but through the effects of 
sin, include its baser passions, and its weaknesses. In obedi- 
ence to this dominant law of mind and soul, voice finds its 
first natural division into Pure and Impure qualities. 


Pure quality of voice is the language of pure thought ; it 
proceeds from the combined and harmonious action of ail 
the vocal parts, and is marked by a clear, smooth, and com- 
manding resonance, which is at once the result and the ex- 
ponent of a natural and serene condition of mind and body. 
In respect to its degrees of force and its varied field of ex- 
pression, it is divided into Simple Pure and Orotund. 

Simple pure voice is the voice of pure conversation. It is 
the basis of all the other qualities of tone, and is the natural 
starting-point of culture. Here common faults of voice 
must be overcome, and correct habits permanently estab- 
lished; and since upon the proper understanding and pro- 
duction of this tone all subsequent culture must depend, the 


possession of obsolnte purity here cannot be too strongly in- 
sisted upon. I'be student sbould secure tbis quaUty before 
attempting to practice tbe impure tones. It corresponds 
witb the natural, as described in the " Table of Vocal Exer- 
cises," on page 41, and the direction for its production 
there given, should be carefully followed. 

Simple Pure Voice is used in simple narration, plain de- 
scription, and the great field of unemotional language. 

Orotund Voice is the symmetrical enlargement of Simple 
Pure Voice, and is produced by a corresponding expansion 
of all the organs used in the production of natural tone. 
This quality of tone in its full development may be justly 
termed the highest character of human utterance. It com- 
bines the tv/o great essentials of perfect speech, purity and 
power, and unites in its production the highest purpose of 
mind and the best condition of body. 

Orotund Voice is the language of sublime and exalted 
thought, lofty sentiment, and grand descriiDtion. 


1. Slie was dead. No sleep so beautiful and calm, so free 
from trace of pain, so ftiir to look upon. She seemed a crea- 
ture fresh from the hand of God, and waiting for the breath 
of life; not one who had lived and suffered death. 

— Charles Dickens. 

» Two brown heads w^ith tossing curls, 

Red lips shutting over pearls, 
Bare feet, white and wet with dew, 
Two eyes black and two eyas blue — 
Little boy and girl were they, 
Katie Lee and Willie Gray. 

«. But of all the old sweet treasures that garnish my nest. 
There's one that I love and I cherish the best ; 
For the finest of couches that's padded Avith hair 
I never would change thee, my cane-bottom'd chair. 


Tis a bandy-legged, high-shouldered, worm-eaten seat, 
With a creaking old back and twisted old feet ; 
But, since the iair morning when Fannie sat 'there, 
I bless thee, and love thee, my cane-bottom'd chair. 

— Thackeray, 

4. Cassius. — That you have wronged me doth appear in this : 

You have condemned and noted Lucius Peha 

For taking bribes here of the Sardians ; 

Wherein my letters, praying on his side, 

Because I knew the man, were slighted off. 

Brutus. — You wronged ycurself to write in such a case, 
Cassius. — In such a time as this, it is not meet 

That every nice offence should bear its comment. 
Brutus. — Yet let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself 

Are much condemned to have an itching palm, 

To sell and mart your offices for gold 

To undeservers. — Shakspeare, 

5. I should think myself a criminal, if I said anything to 
chill the enthusiasm of the young scholar, or to dash with 
any scepticism his longing and his hope. He has chosen the 
highest. His beautiful faith, and his aspiration, are the 
light of life. Without his fresh enthusiasm, and his gallant 
devotion to learning, to art, to culture, the world would be 
dreary enough. — Charles Dudley Warner. 

6. The Lord is my shepherd ; I shall not want. He 
maketh me to lie down in green pastures : he leadeth me 
beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul : he leadeth 
me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, 
though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I 
will fear no evil : for thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff 
they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the 
presence of mine enemies : thou anointest my head with oil ; 
my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall 
follow me all the days of my life : and I will dwell in the 
house, of the Lord forever. — Bible. 


'\1. Who 13 the champion ? who the strong ? 
Pontiff and priest, and sceptered throng? 
On these shall fall 


As heavily the hand of Death, 

As when it sta3's the shepherd's breath, 

Beside his stall ! — Henry W. Longfellow. 

tj. It took Rome three hundred years to die ; and our 
death, if we perish, will be as much more terrific as our in- 
telligence and free institutions have given to us more bone 
and sinew and vitality. May God hide me from the day 
when the dying agonies of my country shall begin ! thou 
beloved land, bound together by the ties of brotherhood, and 
common interest, and perils, live forever — one and undivided ! 

— Lyman Beecher. 

Not wholly lost, Father ! is this evil world of ours ; 
Upward, through its blood and ashes, spring afresh the 

Eden flowers ; 
From its smoking hill of battle. Love and Pity send 

their prayer, 
And still thy white-winged angels hover dimly in our 

air. — John G. Whittier. 

4. Thy right hand, Lord, is become glorious in power : 
thy right hand, C Lord, hath dashed in pieces the enemy, 
and in the greatness of thine excellency thou hast overthrown 
them that rose up againsii thee : thou sendest forth thy wrath 
which consumed them as stubble. And with the blast of thy 
nostrils the waters were gathered together : the floods stood 
upright as an heap, and the depths were congealed in the 
heart of the sea. — Bible. 

Portia — The quality of mercy is not strained ; 
It droppeth as ttie gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath ; it is twice blessed ; 
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes. 
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest. It becomes 
The throned monarch better than his crown : 
His sceptre ahows the force of temporal "^owev, 
The attribute to awe and majesty. 
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings J 
But mercy is above this sceptered sway ; 
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings ; 
It is an attribute to God himself; 


And earthly power cloth then show likest God's 
When mercy seasons justice. 

— Shakspeare, 

6, I do not fear to approach the omnipotent Judge, to 
answer for tlie conduct of ray whole life ; and am I to be ap- 
palled and falsified by a mere remnant of mortality here? 
By you, to'^, who, if it were possible to collect all the inno- 
cent blood that you have shed in j^our unhallowed ministry 
in one great reservoir, your lordship might swim in it. 

— Robert Emmet. 


Impure voice denotes a disturbed condition of mind, and 
results from .i corresponding unnatural and unequal effort 
Mpon the vocal cords, li varies in form and character ac- 
cording to the prevailing trait of the passion of which it 
becomes the language. 

Impui's voice is subdivided into Pectoral, Guttural, Aspi- 
rated ar.d Falsetto. 

These subdivisions, with their natural modifications of 
inten&Ut- cover an important field of expression. It should 
however, be understood that these divisions are not arbi- 
trary <"reations of the elocutionist, but are the natural phy- 
sical effects of passion, as revealed by observation and study. 
It is an established physiological fact that when the soul be- 
comes agitated by some violent emotion, the nervous im- 
pulse thus awakened, rushing through the avenues of the 
body, becomes suddenly the controlling agency of the whole 
physical system. The eye flashes, the muscles of the face 
and arm betray the newly awakened influence, and, in sym- 
pathy with this general physical excitement, the vocal organs 
are disturbed, and the voice instantly reflects this changed 
relation. It loses its natural purity and becomes the agent 
and symbol of the passion that propels it. To this is due the 
rigidity of the cords in the harsh, steely tone of hatred, their 
unnatural tension in the language of terror, and the whole 


phenomena of voice transition. Indeed, so marked is this 
physical relation between passion and tone that it is at once 
recognized by every condition of man, and even by the brute 


The Pectoral quality of voice is used in the expression of 
remorse, horror, dread, deep solemnity, and in the represen- 
tation of the supernatural. It is the result of a relaxed condi- 
'tion of the vocal cords and a feeble and lifeless action of the 
abdominal muscles. 


The Guttural quality of voice is known as a throat tone. 
When carefully controlled, it is an element of great power 
and energy. It denotes all those states of mind classed 
under dislike and ill-humor. It also appears in the ferocity 
of rage and revenge. The prominent characteristic of this 
tone is its harsh, discordant quality, produced by the com- 
pression and partial closing of the throat above the glottis. 

Note— This form of impurity is the most prevalent fault of voice; and the 
greatest care should be taken to confine it to the expression of the sentiments 
above enumerated. 


The Aspirate quality of voice is the language of secrecy, 
caution, surprise, fear, and certain forms of anger. It arises 
from the escape of unvocalized breath and may consist of 
any of the other qualities of voice, modified by strong breath- 
ing. It also includes the whisper. 

Falsetto voice is generally produced above the natural 
tone, and is used in the imitation of high female voices, in 
the voices of children, and in affectation, terror, &c. 



1. I am thy father's spirit ; 

Doomed for a certain term to walk the night ; 

And for the day, confined to fast in fires, 

Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, 

Are burned and purged away. Bat, that I am forbid 

To tell the secrets of my prison-house, 

I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word 

Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; 

Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres; 

Thy knotted and combined locks to part. 

And each particular hair to stand on end, 

Like quills upon the fretful porcupine. 

But this eternal blazon must not be 

To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, Oh, list !— 

If thou didst ever thy dear father love. 

— Shakspeare. 

a. Oh, I have passed a miserable night, 

So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams, 
That, as I am a Christian faithful man, 
I would not spend another such a night, 
Though t'were to buy a world of happy days. 
So full of dismal terror was the time ! 

— Shakspeare. 

3. But at midnight, — strange, mystic hour ! — when the 
veil between the frail present and the eternal future grows 
thin, — then came the messenger ! — Harriet Beecher Stowe. 

4. They're gone, they're gone ! the glimmering spark hath 

The wife and child are numbered with the dead. 
On the cold earth outstretched in solemn rest, 
The babe lay frozen on its mother's breast : 
The gambler came at last — but all was o'er — 
Dread silence reigned around : — the clock struck four ! 

— Coates. 

For selections containing additional examples of Pectoral, 
see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 1, page 37 ; Ko. 2, page 40 ; 
No. 3, page 126 ; No. 4, page 115. 



1. I know the difficulty the honorable gentleman labored 
iinder when he attacked me, conscious that, on a compara- 
tive view of our characters, public and private, there is 
aiothing he could say which would injure me. The public 
would not believe the charge. I despise the falsehood. If 
such a charge were made by an honest man, I would answer 
it in the manner I shall do before I sit down. But I shall 
first reply to it when not made by an honest man. 

— H. Grattan. 

2. I'll have my bond ; I will not hear thee speak : 
I'll have my bond ; and therefore speak no more. 
I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, 

To shake the head, relent, and sigh; and yield 
To Christian intercessors. Follow not; 
I'll have no more speaking . I will have my bond. 

— Shakspeare. 

3. I could have bid you live, had life been to you the 
same weary and wasting burden that it is to me — that it is to 
every noble and generous mind. But you — wretch ! you 
could creep through the world unaffected by its various dis- 
graces, its ineffable miseries, its constantly accumulating 
masses of crime and sorrow, — you could live and enjoy your- 
self, while the noble-minded are betrayed, while nameless 
and birthless villains tread on the neck of the brave and 
long-descended; — you could enjoy yourself like a butcher's 
dog in the shambles, fattening on garbage, while the slaugh- 
ter of the brave went on around you ! This enjoyment you 
shall not live to partake of, you shall die, base dog ! — and 
that before yon cloud has passed over the sun. — Scott. 

4. And it came to pass at noon, that Elijah mocked them, 
and said. Cry aloud ; for he is a god : either he is talking, or 
he is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he 
sleepeth, and must be awaked. — Bible. 

5. From the heads of kings I have torn the crown, 
From the heights of fame I have hurled men down ; 
I have blasted many an honored name ; 
I have taken virtue, and given shame ; 


I have tempted the youth with a sip, a taste, 
Which has made his future a barren waste. 

—Ella Wheeler, 

For selections containing additional examples of Guttural, 
see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 3, page 64 ; No. 5, page 133 ; 
,No. 3, page 140. 


1. Hark ! they whisper : angels say, 
" Sister spirit, come away." 

What is this absorbs me quite, 

Steals my senses, shuts my sight, 

Drowns my spirit, draws my breath ? 

Tell me, my soul, can this be death ? — Pope, 

2. Thou sure and firm-set earth ! 
Hear not my steps, which way they walk ; for fear 
The very stones prate of my whereabout. 

— Shakspeare. 

3. Soldiers! you are now within a few steps of the 
enemy's outposts. Our scouts report them as slumbering in 
parties around their watch-fires, and utterly unprepared for 
our approach. A swift and noiseless advance around that 
projecting rock and we are upon them. We capture them 
without the possibility of resistance. Forward ! 

4. They are famished ; 

Let them do what best delights them ; 
Let them eat, for they are famished. 

— H. W. Longfellow. 

5. Ye're there, but yet I see you not ; draw forth each 
trusty sword, 
And let me hear your faithful steel clash once around 

my board ; 
I hear it faintly ; — louder yet ! What clogs my heavy 

breath ? 
Up, all ! and shout for Eudiger, " Defiance unto death 1 " 

— Albert G. Greene, 


For selections containing additional examples of Aspirated, 
see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 3, page 126; 'No. 2, page 
117 ; No. 4, page 163. 


1. I beg your pardon, I thought my father was— or 
might be — dear me, how very awkward ! I never knew any- 
thing happen so cross. I am very sorry I intruded. If I 
had n't thought my father was here, I would n't, upon any ac- 
count, have— it is very provoking — must look very strange ! 

— Dickens. 

2. " Ephraim ! " said she, the tears rolling down her 
cheeks and the smiles coursing up. " Why, what is it, Ara- 
mathea?" said the astonished Mr. Jones, smartly rubbing 
his head where it had come in contact with the lounge. 
"Baby!" she gasped. Mr. Jones turned pale and com- 
menced to sweat. " Baby ! " " O, 0, O, Ephraim ! Baby 
has — baby has got — a little toothey, oh ! oh ! " 

—Danhury News Man. 

3. And from the crowd beneath, in accents wild, 

A mother screams, •' God ! my child ! my child ! " 

— George M. Baker. 

4. Will the New Year come to-night, mamma ? I'm tired of 
waiting so. 
My stocking hung by the chimney side full three long 

days ago. 
I run to peep within the door, by morning's early light, 
* *Tis empty still— Oh, say, mamma, will New Year come 
to-night ? — sCbm M. Eager. 

5. Yes, it is worth talking of! But that's how you always 

try to put me down. You fly into a rage, and then, if I only 

^ try to speak, you won't hear me. That's how you men 

always will have all the talk to yourselves : a poor woman 

ia n't allowed to get a word in. — Douglas Jerrold. 

For selections containing additional examples of Falsetto, 
see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 1, page 96; No. 2, page 46. 
No. 5, page 89 ; No. 5, page 96. 


Articulation consists in a correct and distinct utterance of 
the elementary sounds in syllables and words. In nearly all of 
the many definitions given by lexicographers and elocutionists, 
the prevailing idea has been distinctness. While this idea is a 
proper one, it is possible to be distinct and yet not correct, 
in which case the very distinctness makes the incorrectness 
more apparent. In the process of articulation the organs of 
speech constitute what may be termed a set of moulds, capa- 
ble of changing position at will, and any imperfection in the 
moulds, or in their arrangement, will produce a correspond- 
ing imperfection in the utterance. 

In articulation as in morals, we have to answer for sins of 
omission as well as of commission. Our articulation is faulty 
not simply in the incorrect sounds we make, but also in the 
correct sounds we too frequently suppress. The ear should 
be trained to distinguish the finer shades of difference in 
Bounds, and the organs of speech should be carefully and 
persistently drilled until they are able to produce, promptly 
and with ease, all the sounds of the language, in all their 
varied and complex combinations. It is believed that a care- 
ful study and practice of the exercises here given will accom- 
plish that result. 

As to the importance of Articulation, there can be but one 
opinion. The distinctness and polish which it gives to speech 
are quickly recognized, even by those whose usage is a sad 
reflection upon that importance. 


In the strict sense of the term, Articulation would be 
regarded as a division or department of Pronunciation ; but 
for convenience it will here be given a broader significatiou, 
and be made to include some exercises in Pronunciation. 

The question is frequently asked, What is the standard of 
pronunciation ? Dr. Worcester says, " The pronunciation 
of the English language, like that of all living languages, 
is in a great measure arbitrary. It is exposed to the caprices 
of fashion and taste. It is liable to change from one age to 
another; and it varies, more or less, not only in the different 
and distantly separated countries in which it is spoken, but 
also in the different divisions and districts of the same coun- 
try. No two speakers or orthoepists, though inhabitants of 
the same place, would be likely to agree in the pronuncia- 
tion of all its words. The standard of pronunciation is not 
the authority of any dictionary, or of any orthoepist ; but it 
is the present usage of literary and well-bred society." He 
then proceeds to show that the usage of the best society in 
London is entitled to far more consideration than that of 
any other city, but adds, in the next sentence, that the usage 
of the best society in the place or district in which one resides 
is not to be disregarded. While the latter suggestion might 
prove a convenience to many, it must be accepted with great 
caution. There are many districts in this country, as well as 
in England, which can scarcely boast of much " best society." 
Even in places claiming men eminent in many departments 
of learning, the utter recklessness and disregard of the prop- 
er forms of spoken language which so generally prevail, 
would render the pronunciation of such men wholly unwor- 
thy as models. Not long since, a student remarked, in 
justification of his pronunciation, "Our pastor pronounces 
c-a-l-m, cam, and he is a very intelligent man." The argu- 
ment is a very common, though not a very safe, one. 

With all due deference to Dr. Worcester's remark that the 
authority of any dictionary is not the standard of pro- 
nunciation, we believe that very few persons in America, 


search beyond Webster and Worcester for their models. It 
is the business of the dictionary to present the best usage of 
the best society, whether it be that of London, Boston, or any 
other city. The revisions of the dictionary should and do 
keep pace with the progress and changes of language. 
While some person must be first, and some other person 
last, in this process of change, yet Pope's rule in regard to 
new words may be fitly applied here : 

In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold ; 
Alike fantastic, if too new or old; 
Be not tks first hy whom the new are tried, 
Nor yet the last to lay the old aside. 

The question is frequently asked, Which is preferred, 
Webster or Worcester ? Much has been written, and a great 
deal of time wasted in the attempt to prove the superiority 
of one to the other. The extent to which Webster is used is 
the very strongest indorsement in itself; and when, with 
that, we couple the testimony of the best scholars in this 
country and in England, it seems like pedantry or bigotry 
to say he is unworthy of recognition as a standard. The 
extent to which Worcester is used is also the very strongest 
indorsement ; and when we find him to be approved by men 
equally renowned, we must recognize him as equally high 
authority. The truth is, they diff'er less widely than many 
persons suppose ; and when they dififer, we have the advan^ 
tage of a choice of pronunciation. When Webster says 
eglantine or eglantine, and Worcester says eglantine or 
eglantine, they agree, not only in recognizing the two forms, 
but also in showing their preference for the first. If our 
respect for their common preference be our controlling 
motive, we will pronounce the word eglantine. But if our 
pastor, or our doctor, or the judge of our county court, or 
the " best society " in which we move, uses the second form, 
and our desire to conform to such usage is greater than oui 
respect for the joint preference of Webster and Worcestei;, 
we have the fullest freedom to use the second form. 


When these lexicographers give two forms each of pro* 
nouncing the same word, they frequently reverse the order, 
thus differing in their preference, and, it is to be hoped, for 
other reasons than to differ. When Webster says sliver or 
sliver, and Worcester says sliver or silver, we may have one of 
several motives to govern our choice. We may take the 
preferred form of our preferred authority ; we may be gov- 
erned by home usage or our best society ; or we may call in 
Smart or some other eminent English orthoepist to act as 

When Webster gives two forms and Worcester gives but 
one, or vice versa, if the one form agrees with either of the 
two forms of the other authority, as in most instances it will, 
theii the weight of authority would seem to be in favor of the 
form which they give in common. Yet if home usage is in 
harmony with the other form, that usage may assert its privi- 
lege even to the exclusion of the other authority. If Webster 
says vase (pronounced vace) and Worcester says vase (pro- 
nounced vaze) or vase, the weight of authority seems to be in 
favor of vase (pronounced vace) yet home usage, or a third 
orthoepist, may decide otherwise. 

If Webster says cenV-ent or ce-menV, and Worcester says 
cem^-ent, the case is clearer, for Worcester's only form agrees 
with Webster's preferred form ; yet even here, home usage, 
or a third orthoepist, or both combined, may decide in favor 
of ce-menV. When Webster says somber and Worcester 
sombre, we are compelled to make a choice, and will make it, 
doubtless, by some of the methods already suggested. 

Most persons use but one dictionary, and will, therefore, 
follow the dictum of that one, but in these days of cheap 
books and close attention to forms of pronunciation, it would 
be well to have not only a quarto edition of one of our stand- 
ard lexicographers, but also one of the better abridged 
editions of the other. This is necessary, not so much to 
assure ourselves that we are right, for we may be right by 
the use of one dictionary, but rather to be assured that our 
neighbor is not wrong. In our study of pronunciation, 


instead of trying to be strictly in harmony with one of the 
recognized authorities, and ignoring the other, we should 
aim, rather, to be not opposed to both. The reader will 
observe that in this discussion, we have had reference sim- 
ply to Pronunciation. ^ 

The change from an old form of pronunciation to a 
new one is always attended with discomfort for a while. It 
is like donning a new hat or wearing a pair of shoes for the 
first time. We feel ill at ease, and imagine everybody recog- 
nizes our discomposure. But the new form, by constant 
use, grows to fit the mouth, as the new shoes become easy 
to the feet. To one who has pronounced c-a-l-f, kdf^ for 
many years, the change to kdj may make him feel not unlike 
that animal for a time, but a knowledge of the fact that the 
latter form alone is right should stimulate him to overcome 
all opposing difficulties. The first thing necessary is the 
acquaintance of the ear and its acceptance of the new form ; 
for the ear, like timid children, wall not receive a stranger 
willingly. Many repetitions of the new form aloud, will 
beget ease in its utterance, and accustom the ear to its sound, 
and after much private practice of this kind, the learner 
need not hesitate to use it in conversation or reading. Con- 
fidence is victory; timidity defeat. If the student will make 
it a habit to consult the_ dictionary whenever he hears a form 
of pronunciation unlike his own, and make a careful list of 
the words in which his usage is incorrect, and correct those 
words in the manner suggested above, he will find his ear 
and his tongue keeping pace in the new work, the former 
acquiring the power to discriminate very closely, and the 
latter the power to make the finer distinctions with ease, so 
that that which at first may be a task, will grow to be a 
source of never-failing delight. 



With Suggestions to Teachers and Students, 

The following exercises were arranged several years aj»o, 
for use in the classes of the National School of Elocution and 
Oratory, with no thought of their appearance in a book. 
The matter was gathered from various sources, some of it 
being used without change, while much of it has been given 
new shape and adapted more fully to our purpose. The old 
and the new have been so thoroughly mingled, that to-day it 
would be difficult to make acknowledgment where acknowl- 
edgment might be due. When every claim has been satisfied, 
it is believed enough will still remain to commend the ex- 
ercises to all who aspire after correct and distinct enuncia- 

To some, the arrangement may seem illogical and the 
exercises disjointed, but it must be remembered that this 
does not aim to be a systematic treatise upon the theory of 
articulation, but rather a series of practical and progress- 
ive exercises, designed to promote good articulation. These 
exercises have been thoroughly tested in the class-room and 
their value fully established. 

A thorough acquaintance with the elementary sounds of 
the language lies at the foundation of good articulation. 

Instead of presenting the table of elements at the outset, 
experience has shown that it is better to lead the student to 
that closer discrimination which the table involves, by a 
careful system of spelling exercises. Tliis inductive method 
greatly simplifies the task by showing the student that the 
analysis or spelling is nothing more than simply separating 
the sounds, which, in combination he has long been accus- 
tomed to use. 


The division into lessons, here indicated, is not essential, 
being a mere matter of convenience in our classes as adapt- 
ed to the length of the recitations. 


To THB Teachee.— In the spelling exercises, hare the class pronounce th* 
word mai in a firm conversational tone. Then, prolong the word several 
seconds, being careful to distribute the time as equally as possible upon the 
several sounds. The t sound cannot be much prolonged, but it should be made 
sharp and clear. The m should be as long as the a. This will set out the several 
sounds in the word conspicuously, and prepare the student for the third step, 
which is the analysis. In the prolonged form it is we-U to use the monotone, so 
that the slide or inflection may not call the attention away from the final 
sound. When the word has been thus pronounced, have the class reproduce^ 
the first sound alone, then the second, then the third. If the first be given 
correctly and the second incorrectly, set aside the m sound, and have theni re- 
peat what remains of the word (at), listening closely for the first sound now 
made. Proceeding slowly and carefully in this way, the student will soon 
come to enjoy what will be to him the discovery of a new power. Insist upon 
his ignoring the letters, and have him depend entirely upon the sound. For 
this purpose the teacher should pronounce the words of the first lesson wltfiout 
the students having seen them previously, or even seeing them at the time of 
spelling. The simplest words have been selected, and some of the sounds are 
frequently repeated so as to make the task as light as possible. The five ^steps 
in the process of phonic analysis are as follows : 1st. Teacher pronounc^j the 
word in a firm, natural tone. 2d. Class pronounce the word in the same, tone 
as nearly as possible. 3d. Class prolong the word. 4th. Class utter the separate 
sounds of the word. 5th. Class pronounce the word in a simple, natural man- 
nel. The word having been pronounced by the teacher, the work of the claw 
may be suggested to the eye by the following arrangement: 

m - - a - - t 
m at 

^ mat 

The last step is designed to give greater completeness to the process of analy- 
sis. "Without it, the work would seem unfinished. If the pupils have much 
difficolty in properly prolonging the ■word, or in separating the sounds after 


prolonging It, have them repeat the process a number of times, enlnrp-'nr 
slightly at first and increasing in length each time until the several sounds 
hang together by so feeble a thread that they may be readily separated. Ihi^j 
may be represented thus : 


* m - a - t 

m - - a - - t 

m - - a - - t 

m - - a - - t 

m - - a - - t 

m • • a » • t 



The exercises may be nicely varied, and with great interest and profit too, by 
the employment of the synthetic method, the teacher giving the several sounds 
of a word widely separated, and requiring the class to put them more and more 
closely, until they combine to form the word. This process may be represented 
to the eye by reversing the above arrangement, thus: 

Teacher : 


Class: m • • a • • t 

m - - a . - t 

m. - - a - - t 

m - - a - - t 

m - - a - - t 

m - a - t 

After the words have been spelled in concert, they should be respelled by the 
individual members of the class. 

The second exercise of this lesson is designed to give practice In the use of 
the sound of i:7i, and is especially designed for those who say tcol, u-en, wich, wile, 
vty, for what, when, which, while, why. Believing that a single short exercise 
uiauy times repeated and thoroughly mastered, will give greater utrength and 



fit ill than many long and intricate ones, we recommend that a few simple 
exercises be committed to memory. They are thus available at any time, and 
will often be practiced when they would not be if their practice depended upon 
having the book in hand. 


Spell by sound — 


lap jam hem 




ham ten get 




pan net sin 




man set pin 




rat keg sit 



nut cut yelp 

fun rum bold 

tub vat dust 

gum wag wend 

sun zest gill 

2. Commit to memory — 

What whim led White Wliitney to whittle, whistle, whis- 
per, and whimper near the wharf, where a floundering whale 
might wheel and whirl ? 


To THE Teacher. — The observations In the first lesson will apply with equal 
force to the first and third divisions of this. The second exercise has a double 
purpose. By a gradual inductive process we pass from simple monosyllables 
containing the long and short vowel sounds to those sounds as individual ele- 
ments. We also lay a basis for a series of exercises continued through a num- 
ber of lessons, the advantage of which exercises will become more apparent as 
we proceed. Be careful to have the class give the short vowel sounds correctly; 
the long vowel sounds will present but little difficulty. 

1. Spell by sound — 












































broil . 












2. Pronounce firmly — mate mete mite mote muto 
Pronounce firmly — mat met mit mot mut 

Alternate several times — 


mate i mete l mite I mote I mute I boon 1 boil 
mat I met | mit I mot I mut | book | bout 

Dropping the first sound in the above words, repeat — 

ate I ete I ite i ote I ute l oon | oil 
at I et I it I ot I ut | ook | out 

Dropping the last sound in the above words, repeat— 

M X M I °3' I °' 

i: I 6 I ti 1 GO I ou 

8. Commit to memory — 

Amidst the mists and coldest frosts, 
With stoutest wrists and loudest boast^ 
He thrusts his fists against the posts, 
And still insists he seea the ghosts. 



To THB Teachee.— The sounds of 6, d, g, to and y are generally regarded . 
difficult by beginners. The prolonged form of the consonant, suggested in the 
first exercise, -will render them easy of acquisition. By g is meant the hard 
sound, as in go, not as in gem. The sound of wU is equivalent to wob; and the 
sound of yob, to yu. In the second exercise be very careful that the short vow- 
els are made correctly. The third exercise is designed to give vigor and 
flexibility to the muscles of the mouth. In the fourth exercise, begin slowly 
and carefully, and increase to a rapid utterance. Make no pause between the 
words of a line, and onl^ a slight pause at the end of the line. In the fifth ex- 
ercise, have the class give separately and vigorously the sounds represented by 
the letters in Italics, then the combination as a whole, after which, bring out 
the combination prominently in the words that follow. The letters of the 
Italic combination are not always the same as those representing the combina- 
tion in the word, but the sounds are the same, and the Italics are the better 
representatives of the sounds. 

1. Utter firmly the following exercise, dwelling upon the 
consonant element, and ending the vowel abruptly — 















Substitute for b, in the last exercise, d, g, j, I, n, w, y. 

2. Pronounce firmly — a eiouoooiI^SI5tid6ou 

3. Utter the following, slowly and carefully at first, and 
increase to a very rapid utterance — 

ba-pa I be-pe I bi-pi I b6-p5 I bu-pu I boo-poo I boi -poi 
ba-pS, 1 bg-p6 I bi-pl I b6-p6 1 bti-p^ I bdo-poo I bou-pou 

Also — da-ta 1 va-fa | ja-cha. 

4. Commit to memory — 

ceaseth, approacheth, rejoiceth, ceaseth, 
approacheth, rejoiceth, ceaseth, approacheth, 
rejoiceth, ceaseth, approacheth, rejoiceth. 


5. Subtonic Combinations 

bd robbed, robed 
gd bragged, dragged 
ngd banged, hanged 
njd singed, tinged 
Ijd bulged, divulged 
ndz lands, mends 

ihz sheathes, breathe* 
thd sheathed, breathed 
Imz elms, films 
zm chasm, prism 
zmz spasms, schisms 
zn risen, dozen. 


To THE Teacher.— It is desirable that the table of elementary sounds, with 
their key words, be committed to memory. This need not be accomplished in 
one lesson, nur in five, but should be kept in mind, so that with a little special 
Btudy, together -with the reviews hereafter to be given, the work will be 
achieved without much effort. For the convenience of the student the nota- 
tion of Webster and of Worcester is presented in its application to the voice 
sounds. For the purpose of drill, have the class pronounce firmly each key 
word under Voice Sounds twice, then utter the sound of the vowel twice. • After 
theentirelist has been disposed of in this manner, repeat the list, giving the 
key word once and the sound twice. Repeat, giving the vowel sounds only, \)\xi 
uttering each twice. Proceed in like manner with the Breath and Union 
Sounds. The distinguishing character of the vowel sounds in the coalescents 
or inseparables— ar, er, or, and ur — depends entirely upon the r. Although the 
vowel sounds may be given alone, or may even be combined with other sounds 
than r, yet the fact remains that in English words those vowel sounds are In- 
separably combined with r. For this reason it is suggested that the two sounds 
be joined and considered as one, just as the diphthongs oi and ou ;iire regarded 
as single, though not simple sounds. For the convenience of the *tudent the 
names of the diacritical marks or symbols are given. 

1. The elementary sounds are classified according to the 
material of which they are made. 

Voice Sounds are those which are made of voice. 
Breath Sounds are those which are made of breath. 
Union Sounds are those which unite voice and breath in 
one element. 


2. Commit to memory — 


l/oice Sounds, 









(X le 








a t 












< 00 ze 








1 00 k 




a sk 








e ve 



ou ou t 




e Ik 





i ce 




f ar e 




e n 




er se 












ur n 


Breath Sounds. 




p in 

8 sh 






9 th 






^ an 
ch in 

10 wh 


(/w/o// Sounds. 


h oy 


m an 

11 2/ 



d ay 


?i ot 

12 one 




r oam 

13 a « ure 


i udge 


v an 

14 ih 



/ one 


w e 

15 so 71^ 





















To THE Teacher.— Careful and frequent practice upon the worda given as 
examples and as exercises in this lesson will be profitable. The student should 
bo urged to increase the list of examples under each of the sections, as ex- 
amples are furnished in his conversation and reading, especially adding those 
in which his usage is faulty. 

1. Italian a (a) when not followed by r is frequently mis- 
pronounced. Examples — balm, calm, palm, psalm, calf, 
half, ha, wrath, aunt, laugh, launch, mustache. 

2. Fifth a (a or a) occurs chiefly in monosyllables ending 
in ff, Jt, ss, st, sk, sp, nee, nt. The following list, with their 
derivatives, will furnish abundant practice : — 









































































3. Short (6) is often incorrectly sounded like broad a 
(a or a). Examples — on, gone, dog, off, often, soft, soften, 
long, prong, song, strong, thong, throng. 


4. Long u [u] is often incorrectly sounded like long oo 
(oo or 6) when preceded by d, g, j, I, n, s, f, ch, th, wh, z. 
Examples — dubious, duty, duke, duet, dew, due, duel, dupe, 
gewgaw, gubernatorial, June, juice, jubilant, jubilee, junior, 
juniper, jurist, lute, Lucifer, lunacy, lurid, lucid, lucre, lumin- 
ous, new, neuter, nucleus, nuisance, numeral, nutriment, 
suit, suitor, suet, sue, sudorific, suicide, superintend, tune, 
tube, tunic, Tuesday, tureen, tulip, tumult, chew, chusite, 
thews, whew, whewer, zuche, azumea. 

5. After r, sh, and w, long u (u) represents the sound of 
long 00 (oo). Examples — rude, brute, fruit, shude, shute, 
sure, issue. 

6. The coalescent ar (1 or 1 with r), as in "pare^ should not 
bend too much toward long a (a), as in 'payer ^ nor yet to- 
ward short a (I), as in parry. 

7. The coalescent er (g with r) should be carefully distin- 
guished from UT (d or u with r). Exercise — yes, sir; no, sir; 
prefer, verge, verse, mercy, ermine, — fir, fur; earn, urn; bird, 
burred ; serge, surge. 

8. The vowel in the coalescent or is more open than long 
(6), but not so open as broad a (a or a). Examples — for, 
more, corn, borne, lord, stork, pour, George, board, mourn, 
door. But when or occurs in an accented syllable, followed 
by a vowel, or by another r, in a word not a derivative, it has 
its regular short sound (6). Examples — foreign, orange, tor- 
rid, coronet, coral, correlate, corridor. 

9. The aoalescent ur occurs in monosyllables when not 
followed by a vowel ; in accented syllables with r final, or r 
followed by one or more consonants different from itself; 
and in derivatives from either of those classes. Examples — 
cur, fur, furl, hurt, burst, purr, — recur, curfew, furlong, dis- 
bursed, — currish, furry, purring, recurring. This sound 
should be carefully distinguished from short u (u) before 
r \\y such \yord* *s curry, hurry, burrow, currant, current. 



To TITE Tkaciter.— The long and short vowel sounds are designed to be used 
In ths) second section of this lesson as in the third section of lesson III. The 
third section of this lesson has been explained under the fifth section of lesson 
III, and the fourth section under the first section of lesson I. As few persons 
pronounce all of the words of the fifth section of this lesson correctly, it should 
be practiced with great care. 

1. Review Voice Sounds, first with key words, then with- 
out key words. 

2. ba-pa | da-ta | va-fa | tha-tha [ ja-cha | gsa-ksa, first 
with accent on first syllable, then with accent on second 


Idz molds, folds 


taps, sips 

rbd orbed 

, absorbed 


rapt, si 


rjd urgedj 

, verged 




rdz cards. 



clasped, lisped 

rlz purls, 



asks, risks 

rid furled 

, world 



, frisked 

rmz arms, 





rmd charmed, squirmed 


withed, scathed 

rvz carves 

, serves 




rvd starved, curved 


acts, picts 

4. Spell by sound — 





























































5. For the hundredth time he spoke of lengths, breadths, 
widths, and depths. 

He adds fourths, fifths, sixths, sevenths, eighths, ninths, 
tenths, elevenths, and twelfths with skill. 


To THE TEAcaER.— The first exercise of this lesson Is designed to show hov 
different letters and combinations of letters are used to represent the same 
Bound. The words should be used as an exercise in phonetic spelling, the 
student in each case pointing out the equivalent. 

1 — Equivalents : 

a sail, gauge, lay, great, deign, they, melee, 

a plaid, guaranty. 

a daunt, heart, guard, sergeant. 

a* pause, law, groat, sought. 

a* No equivalents. 

e weak, seize, people, key, brief, pique, seek. 

g any, said, says, dead, heifer, leopard, friend, guess, bury. 

1 aisle, sleight, eye, die, choir, guide, huy, try, 

1 £^nglish, been, sieve, women, bttsy, build, si/mbol, captazn, 

6 hautboy, beau, yeoman, seu;, boat, hoe, soul, flozy. 
6 hough, knowledge, what, 
u beauty, feiid, dew, adieu, yietv, your, cue, suit. 
i1 does, love, young, blood. 
00 shoe, soup, rheum, drei^, do, canoe, manoeuvre, rwde, 

00 wolf, would, pull, 
oi jov. 
nu now. 

ar hair, bear, where, their, Aaron, 
er earnest, mirth, m^/rrh, guerdon, 
or extraordinary, George, board, mourn, 
ar worm, journey. 



2. — Affix the long and short vowels as in previous exer- 
cises, and accent the firot and third syllables : 

// ///// / 

b-p-b-p I d-t-d-t I v-f-v-f I th-th-th-th 

// // //// 

j-ch-j-ch I gs-ka-gs-ks | w-v-w^v | v-w-v-w 


To THE TEACHER.—Cognates are sounds requiring the same position of the 
Tocal organs. The first of each pair is a Breath Sound, the second a Union 
Sound. The distinction should be carefully marked. 

The Contrasts require great precision in their utterance. Careless speakers ~ 
make lltt.e or no diflference in their pronunciation. 

1, Review Union Sounds first with key words, then with- 
out key words. 

2. Cognates— 

/, V, fast, t^ast 


chestf jest 

k,g, kill, 


8h, 0, 

Ashur, a^ure 

p, h, paxQ 

, 6are 


thigh, thy 

8, z, seal. 


wh, IV f 

whit, wit 

t, d, dme 

, c?ime 

8. Contrasts- 

prince, prints 

tracks, tracts 

tens, tends 

mince, mints 



wrens, rends 

sense, cents 



fens, offends 

dense, dents 

ducks, ducts 

relics, relicts 

tense, tents 



instance, instants 

cha»ce, chants 



incidence, incidents 




4. Spell by 

' sound — 














































5. Affix the long and short vowels as in previous exer- 

Accent the first and fourth syllables — 

w-v-v-w I v-w-w-v. 
Accent the second syllable — 

/ / / / 

w-v-v-w I v-w-w-v I tii-th-th-t±i | th-th-tii-th. 

Accent the fourth syllable — 

/ / / / 

b-d-p-t-p I w-v-f-v-w I tii-th-s-sh-th | j-ch-gs-ks-k. 

Without accent— 

sf-ksth-ksth I ksth-sf-ksth | sf ksth-ksthsf. 


Pronounce carefully, as ir 


in IIL, 5— 


nymph, lymph 


troubl'st, doubl'st 


widths, breadths 


rob'dst, prob'dst 


rob'st, prob'st 


cradl'st, saddl'st 


milked, bilked 


struggl'st, smuggl'st 


healths, wealths 


begg'dst, drugg'dst 




rag'dst, wag'dst 


filched, mulched 


hold'st, fold'st 


months, plinths 


whelm'st, film'st 


, lengths, strengths 


delv'st, helv'st 


sheath'st, breath 'st 


help'st, scalp'st 




To THE Teachke.— In the second section affix the long and short Towel 
sounds as before. 

1. Keview Table of Elementary Sounds — 

Voice Sounds : 

Breath Sounds 

With natural force, 
With great vigor, 
With soft whisper, 
With loud whisper, 
^ With mixed voice and breath. 

I Soft, 
I Loud. 

rr . « , (Soft, 

Union Sounds : j -rf.y,A 

2. w-v-f-f-v-w I dr-bl-pl-dw-gr-kr | dr-bl-pl-dw-gr-kr 






harm 'dst 














thump 'st 


reason 'st 


harp 'dst 




sheath 'dst 
















think 'st 


































deaf 'n 'dst 


learn 'st 










lurk 'dst 






open 'dst 


sea roll 'at 




length 'n'dst 










To THE Teacher. — The rules of this lesson are too general, and the excep- 
tions too numerous, to make the rules of much practical benefit, other than to 
show general tendencies of the language. The chief value of this lesson will 
consist in the frequent practice of the correct pronunciation of these and other 
words which teachers and students will meet with in the course of their read- 
ing, and which fall under the several rules and exceptions here given. This 
practice will make the correct pronunciation of the words familiar, and it ia the 
only truly practical method. 


1. A syllable is a word or part of a word uttered with a 
ftingle impulse of the voice. 

2. A word of one syllable is called a monosyllable ; of two, 
a dissyllable ; of three, a trisyllable ; of more than three, a 

3. The last syllable of a word is called the ultimate ; the 
next to the last is called the penult ; the third from the last, 
the antepenult ; the fourth from the last, the pre-antepenult. 

4. Of words of two syllables, nouns and adjectives gener- 
ally have the accent on the first syllable, and verbs on the 
second syllable. Examples : Nouns — abbot, comet, fossil, 
napkin, album, comma, antic, gallon, anvil, atom, linnet, 
garret, logic, basket, demon, organ, genus, bobbin. Adjec- 
tives — common, naval, lucid, dental, lurid, candid, dulcet, 
horrid, carnal, quiet, rabid, mental, rancid. Verbs — admit, 
aflS.x, occur, impel, forbid, annex, commit, expel, concur, 
debar, excel, emit, dispel, demur, ferment, purloin. 

So general is this law that the exceptions often lead ua 
into error. Examples: Nouns — morass, recess, research, 
resource, romance, address, adept, adult, ally, allies, basalt, 
compeer, contour, finance, vendue, routine, recourse. Ad-, 
jectives — canine, condign, robust, verbose, occult, prolix. 
Verbs — harass, ransack, gyrate, sojourn, preface, purport, 

Some nouns an^d adjectives are distinguished from verbs of 


the same spelling by this difference of accent; as — accent, 
conduct, contract, insult, torment, concert, convict, escort, 
import, export, object, record, subject, abstract, conflict, 
protest, compound, desert, progress, project, retail, contrast, 
contest, confine, quarantine.-^absent, frequent. 

5. "Words of more than two syllables generally have the 
primary accent on the antepenult. Walker calls this the 
favorite accent of the language. Examples — disputant, 
hospital, industry, domicile, juvenile, crystalline, serpentine, 
coralline, centrifugal, interpolate, misanthropy, chalybeate, 
heliacal, chimerical, chirography, anachronism, simulta- 
neous, ammoniacal, reciprocity, demoniacal, interlocutor, 
homoeopathy, hypochondria, idiosyncrasy, dicotyledonous, 
trigonometrical, impracticability, monocotyledonous, valetu- 
dinarian, incommensurability, unintelligibility. 

Exceptions to this law often lead us into error, as — manu- 
mit, magazine, acclimate, defalcate, inundate, exculpate, 
exponent, condolence, opponent, hospitable, prebendary, 
formidable, cotyledon, conservator, explicable, contumely, 
despicable, nomenclature, orthoepy, orthoepist, peremptory, 
exemplary, obligatory, indisputable, indissolubl3\ 

6. English derivatives, or words derived from other words 
in the language, generally retain the accent of their primi' 
lives, as — mischievous, mountainous, serviceable, unhappi- 
ness, admiralty, fragmentary. 

Exceptions to this law frequently lead us astray, as — - 
chastisement, comparable, disputable, lamentable, impiously, 

7. Many words from the Latin and Greek, introduced 
into our language with little or no change of orthography, 
retain the classical accent. The attempt to make such 
words conform to English analogy frequently leads us into 
error. Examples — acumen, bitumen, horizon, paragoge, 
abdomen, lyceum, museum, sonorous, decorum, mausoleum. 

8. In many words of very common usage, this analogy of 
the English prevails over the classical accent, as — auditor, 
orator, minister, senator, plethora. 


9. Many words derived without change of orthography 
from the French, are accented ou the last syllable. Ex- 
amples — antique, bastile, bourgeois, chateau, corvette, finesse, 
giraffe, adieu, artiste, bouquet, coquette, debut, canaille, 
canard, blanc-mange, carte-blanche, depot, debris, eclat, 
encore, ennui, ^lite, entr6e, facade, machine, melee, mirage, 
monsieur, parquet, parole, parterre, penchant, physique, 
plateau, regime, soiree, sortie, surtout, sang-froid, savant, 
souvenir, tableau, tirade, vignette, vedette, vendue, amateur, 
bagatelle, coterie, connoisseur, chevalier, cuirassier, debau- 
chee, debonair, dishabille, expos^, mademoiselle, millionaire, 
nonchalance, proteg^, reservoir, repertoire, recherche, sobri- 
quet, solitaire, tete-a-t^te, vis-a-vis. 

10. When two words are used antithetically which differ 
only or chiefly in one of their syllables, the primary accent 
is transferred to that syllable ; as. He must 2?icrease but I 
must decrease. Did you say a new addition, or a new 
edition? Oar sins of omission as well as of commission, Did 
she suspect him or ea^pect him? 

In counting we say thir^teen, four^teen, fif ^teen, &c., but in 
answer to a question, as, " How many dollars did you pay for 
your coat," we should answer, " Fifteen^." When emphatic, 
the accent is quite evenly divided; as, "They ate /ourteen> 
large oysters for supper,'* 



To THE Teacher.— The term " Prefixes," at the head of this lesson, is used 
in Its broader sensr^, and is made to apply to the beginning of a ■word, to that 
part ■which is " fixed before," ■whether the word be a primitive or a derivative, 

1. The letter a, as a prefix, when not accented, is sounded 
like Italian a, slightly obscured. The sound of long a in such 


position, should be carefully avoided. Examples : — again, 
against, abaft, abash, abate, acute, adopt, alarm. 

At the end of a word or of a syllable, a, when unaccented, 
generally takes the same sound ; as, Cuba, America, algebra, 
sofa, idea, — banana, cabal, caboose, canal, canary. 

2. When hi and tri are used as prefixes, the i is usually 
long. Examples:— bicrenate, biennial, biflorous, biforate, 
bilingual, bimana, binary, binervate, binomial, biography, 
biology, bipedal, bisect, bivalvous, triad, trialogue, tribunal, 
tricennial, triennial, trifoliate, trilemma, trilobate, trilobite, 
trimeran, trimester, trimetrical, tripartient, tripetalous, tri- 
plicity, tripod, trisect, triumvir. 

The following exceptions occur : — biforine, bitumen, bitu- 
minous, tribune, trichina, trilogy, trimeter, tripedal, triphy- 
line, trisplanchnic, trisyllable, trisyllabic. 

With change of accent, the following may be either long 
or short :— biparous, bipartite, tripartite, triphyllous. 

Webster says, " The i is usually long in the initial syllables 
i, hi, ciii, cli, cri, pri, tri." 

3. Other words whose first syllable contains or ends in i 
or y are frequently mispronounced. The following require 
short i: — didactic, digest, digression, dilapidate, dimension, 
diminish, diploma, direct, divan, diverge, divert, divest, 
divulge, divide, fidelity, finance, financial, financier, miracu- 
lous, piano, piazza, pilaster, tirade, vicar, visor, hypocrisy^ 
Italian, tyrannize, Tyrolese, tyromancy. 

These require long i or y: — chirography, chiropodist, 
di^'aricate, diverse, sinecure, siren, tiny, viscount, dioptrics, 
diurnal, tyrannic, tyrannicide, t3'pal. 

The i or y may be either long or short in — dilate, dilemma, 
hilarity, minute {adjective), simultaneous, sliver, virago, viril, 
vituperate, vivacious, quinine, bison, hypothecate, hypothe- 
nuse, hypothesis, typography. 

4. The letter n in the prefix con of the following words, 
has the sound of 7?^/ : — concave, conclave, concord, concourse, 
conger, congo, congregate, congregation, congregational, con- 
gress, congruence, congruent, congruous, conquer, conqueror^ 
conquest, — concrete {^conff or con). 



But in the following, the n has its simple sound : congratu- 
late, congressional, congruity. 

5. The letter o takes the sound of short u in the following 
words and their derivatives : — bomb, bombard, bombast, 
bombazine, bomb-shell, come, comely, comfit, comfiture, 
comfort, comfrey, company, compass, conjure, some, some- 
body, somehow, something, sometimes, somewhat, some- 

6. The letter x generally has the sound of ks, but in the 
prefix of the following words and their derivatives, it is equiv- 
alent to gz : — exacerbate, exact, exaggerate, exalt, examine, 
example, exasperate, executive, executor, exemplar, exem- 
plary, exemplify, exempt, exert, exhale, exhaust, exhibit, 
exhilarate, exhort, exist, exonerate, exorbitant, exordium, 
exotic, exuberant, exude, exult. 

The sound of ks is retained in exhibition, exhortation, ex- 
cursion, exoteric. 

7. Much diversity exists among orthoepists respecting the 
sound of s in the prefix dis. Webster gives it the z sound in 
a very few words ; Worcester and Smart in a larger number. 
The following words, with their derivatives, comprise quite a 
full list :— 

Webster. Worcester. 




dis -integrate 















































The 8 is frequently incorrectly sounded like z in designate, 
desist, desolate, desolation, desultory, desuetude, desidera- 


8. The sound of th in the prefix with, of the following words 
and their derivatives, should have the vocal quality, as dis- 
tinguished from the aspirate : — withal, withdraw, withheld, 
within, without, withstand ; also in the words with, without, 
withers, therewithal, wherewithal. But in the suffix with of 
the words forthwith, herewith, therewith, wherewith, the 
weight of authority is in favor of the aspirate sound. 



1. Most words ending in en drop the e in pronunciation ; 
as, fallen, stolen, swollen, often, heaven, even, given, driven, 
harden, soften, hasten, chasten, listen. 

Exceptions : 

a. After the liquids /, m, n, r; as, pollen, woolen, flamen, 
hymen, omen, women, regimen, specimen, abdomen, acumen, 
bitumen, cerumen, legumen, catechumen, linen, siren, — 
except fallen, stolen, swollen. 

b. Aspen, chicken, hyphen, kitchen, lichen, marten, 
— jerken, latten, mynchen, paten, patten, platen, rowen, 
ticken, wicken, yewen. 

c. Divided usage — Eden, bounden, heathen, mitten, 
sudden, sloven. 

2. Most words ending in el retain the e in pronunciation; 
as,gravel, level, vessel, chapel, barrel, camel, cancel, channel, 
kennel, label, marvel, gospel, libel, hovel, novel, travel, 
tunnel, parcel, bushel, chisel, model, nickel, rebel, squirrel, 
tassel, travel. 

Exceptions : Chattel, drivel, easel, grovel, hazei, mantel, 
mussel, ravel, shekel, shovel, shrivel, snivel, swivel, teasel. 


weasel,— barbel, betel, drazel, mispickel, mangel-wurzel, ousel, 
rivel, scovel, swingel, toggel, towsel. 

3. a. Adjectives ending in ed usually retain the e; as, 
aged, crabbed, dogged, naked, picked, cragged, crooked, 
jagged, peaked, ragged, rugged, wretched, wicked; but ifl 
with another consonant precede e, the e is suppressed; as, 
brindled, circled, dimpled, cradled, crumpled. 

A few participles used as adjectives retain the e like other 
adjectives; as, beloved, blessed, learned, winged, cursed. An 
exception is found in picked, used in the sense of selected ; as, 
* a hnndved picked men." 

b. Verbs and participles ending in ed usually suppress 
the e ; as, beloved, blessed, learned, cursed, believed, feared, 
possessed, received. 

"When the root ends in d or f, however, the e is necessarily 
retained ;- as, acceded, collected, demanded, exhausted. 

c. Adverbs formed by adding ly, and nouns formed by ad- 
ding nesSy to words ending in ed, retain the e; as, assuredly, 
confessedly, designedly, confusedly, renewedly, amazedness, 
composedness, blessedness. 

d. In compounds, as full-aged, sheath-winged, the e is 

e. In poetry the e is often retained when, in prose, it 
would be suppressed ; as. 

In notes, ■with many a winding bout 

Of linked sweetness long drawn out. — Milton. 

f. "When ed follows an aspirate or breath sound other 
than h or t, the e is suppressed, and the d takes the sound of 
t; as, missed, passed, marked, laughed, sipped, matched, 
lashed, wished. 

4. Words ending in ine are frequently mispronounced. 

a. The following require long ^■: Asinine, brigandine, brig- 
antine, canine, cannabine, capitoline, carbine, celandine, 
cervine, columbine, corvine, crystalline, feline, internecine, 
leonine, muscadine, metalline, saline, saturnine, serpentine, 
sibylline, vespertine. 


b. These require short i : Adamantine, benzine, bromine, 
calcimine, celestine, chlorine, clandestine, coralline, elephan- 
tine, engine, ermine, feminine, genuine, heroine, intestine, 
iodine, jasmine, masculine, morphine, nectarine, nicotine, 
paraflBine, pristine, rapine, strychnine, turbine, vulpine. 

c. The i may be either long or short in alkaline, aquiline, 
calcine, carmine, eglantine, infantine, saccharine, vaccine. 

d. In a few words the i is equivalent to long e; as, guillo- 
tine, bombazine, quarantine, machine, ravine, sardine (or 

e. Chemical terms ending in ine and ide generally require 
short i] as, benzoline, caseine, fibrine, fluorine, glycerine, 
lignine, margarine, oleine, stearine, bromide, chloride, 
iodide, oxide, sulphide. 

/. The i should be long in Apennine, Argentine, Palestine, 
Palatine ; short in Alexandrine, Augustine, Euxine, Jacobine, 
Philippine, Philistine, Tripoline ; either long or short iu 
Alpine, Aldine, Byzantine, Clementine, Florentine, Levan- 
tine ; and equivalent to long e in Algerine, Sabine. 

5. Words ending in on preceded by c, ck, s, t, and some 
other letters, often suppress the o. Examples :— bacon, bea- 
con, beckon, blazon, button, cotton, crimson, damson, dea- 
con, glutton, lesson, mason, mutton, pardon, pai*son, person, 
poison, prison, reason, reckon, season, treason. 

6. In the ending il the i is suppressed in evil, weevil, 
devil, and retained in cavil, civil, fossil, pencil. 

7. The i is retained in most words ending in in, but iu 
basin, cousin, it is suppressed. 

8. The ending ain is generally pronounced in; as, captain, 
mountain, fountain, certain. 




jN'o one need hope to have an elegant pronunciation 
without attention to the vowels in unaccented sj'llables, yet 
the dictionaries leave those vowels unmarked except in a 
few first syllables. Unfortunately, too few persons, even 
among students of Elocution, study with care the " Principles 
of Pronunciation " contained in the first part of the larger 

Webster says, "When an unaccented syllable ends in a 
consonant, its vowel, if sin.^le, has in strict theory, its 
regular short or shut sound, though uttered somewhat more 
faintly, or with a less proportionate force, than in an accent- 
ed syllable, as in as-sign^, con.'' -diid, con^-flwt, &g. In many 
words of this class, however, the vowel is apt to suffer a 
change of its distinctive quality, passing over into some sound 
of easier utterance." The sound ofu in urn, often called the 
'natural vowel/ and that of short u, are the vowel sounds of 
easiest utterance, and the sounds toward which many of the 
others tend when rendered obscure ; as, dollar, nectar, altar, 
alter, feather, nadir, tapir, zephyr, actor, mirror, — idea, sofa, 
ballad, ballast, potato, window;, orphan, dismal, compass, 
parable, culpable, enemy, strategy, charity, possible, cuticle, 
crucible, parody, analogy, calculate, mascwline, anal^/sis. To 
pronounce these with a broad ur or uh sound, as : nectur, 
actur, hallud, puhtatuh, dismul, enuhmj, charit^ty, analwAsis, 
&c., is a fault which all chaste speakers carefully avoid. 

The following general principles may aid the student, but 
they are too broad to be wholly relied upon : 

1, Long a, long and short e, tend toward short i. 

2. Short a, Italian a, intermediate a, long and short o, 
tend toward short u. 


3. Coalescenta ar, er, or, and Italian a followed by r, tend 
toward ur. 

4. Long 00 tends toward short oo. 

Some of these tendencies are very slight, and others are 
very marked. The degree of each it is impossible to specify ; 
it can be learned only by hearing correct articulation. To 
some of those tendencies there seem to be exceptions, and 
this serves to increase the difficulty. The following exam- 
ples will be of advantage : 

A, verging toward i. — Monday, Tuesday, mountain, certain, 
village, cabbage, orange. But in 'chocolate,' 'delicate,' ' intri- 
cate,' 'ultimate,' we have exceptions, the a verging rather 
toward short e. The same is true in 'miscellany,' 'moment- 
ary,' and other words of similar termination. In verbs end- 
ing in ate the long a sound is usually retained. 

e, verging toward z. — Genesis, remorse, elegant, society, 
enemy, cofifee, college. The e in society, enemy, elegy, &g., 
is sometimes corrupted into short u. 

6, verging toward z. — Wicked, basket, riches. Here the 
proper bending is exceedingly slight. In some words, as 
poem, solemn, emblem, the e is frequently corrupted into 
short u, 

a,, verging toward u. — Palpable, culpable, mental, ballad 

a, verging toward u. — Cuba, sofa, comma, idea. 

a, verging toward u. — Douglass, compass, cutlass, breakfast, 
distance, gallant. 

6, verging toward u. — Polite, pomade, potato, tobacco. 

6, verging toward u. — Commerce, companion, compel, 
pivot, fagot, mammoth. 

Coalescent ar, verging toward ur. — Parental, thereat, thereon, 

Coalescent er, verging toward ur. — Exasperate, assertion, 
conversation, perdition. 

Coalescent or, verging toward ur. — Camphor, languor, actor, 
tenor, victor, captor, reformation. 



Italian a followed by r, verging toward ur. — Dollar, altar, 
nectar, barbarous. 

00, verging toward 06.— To-day, to-morrow, together, erudi- 

Worcester marks vowels in unaccented syllables with a 
period or dot underneath ; Webster leaves them unmarked. 

It must be observed that Worcester employs this character 
to indicate a slight stress of voice, and not to note any par- 
ticular quality of sound, as will be seen in the follow-" 
ing examples, in which the italicized vowels are thus 
marked : liar, palace, abbacy—brier, fuel— elix^r, ruin — actor, 
confess — trul^/, martj/r. 



To THE Teacher. — Have the student pronounce these words with a strongly 
marked accent. After the faults have been corrected, frequent repetition will 
soon fix the correct pronunciatiou . The lesison wiU also a£Ebrd farther practice 
in phonetic spelling. 



horizon archangel 




acclimate archbishop 




armistice archetype 




adversely aspirant 




albumen behemoth 




amateur bitumen 




antarctic canorous 




contrary chivalric 




aroma caloric 




colporter communist 























• isothermal 











chalcedony photographer 









combatable irrefragable 



quadrupedal comparable 

) apotheosis 







colportage promulgate 






recognizance matutinal 




reconnoissance legislature 

surnamed defalcate 




































To THE Teacher. — The difficulties of this lesson have reference to syllablca* 
tion ; those of the last to accent. Have the student first tell the number of 
syllables in a word, and then pronounce the word firmly with that number of 
syllables. This lesson may also be used for phonetic spelling. 


ratio glacial neuralgia omniscient penitentiary 

series hideous palliative peculiarity plenipotentiary 

nuncio hygiene parhelion plagiarism amelioration 

satiate inertia pecuniary substantiate carbonaceous 

sentient javelin port-folio euperiacies familiarity 















































1 fiduciary 



) bounteous congenial 





convenient immediate 






















1. The letter h following m in the same syllable, is gen- 
erally silent, as in lamb, limb, numb, tomb, &c., but in 
rhomb and succumb, it is retained. 

2. The sound of sh is often incorrectly made like zh in 
surh words as Asia, Asiatic, nausea, nauseous, Persia, 

3. The sound of ^ in the termination tie following s is gen- 
erally suppressed ; as, apostle, epistle, thistle, whistle, bustle, 
hustle, castle, jostle. 

4. Care should be taken to preserve the aspirate or 
breath sound of th in the plurals truths, youths, breaths. In 
the i)lural3 baths, laths, paths, moths, cloths, oaths, mouths, 
sheaths, swaths, wreaths, the th is vocal. It is also vocal in 
booth and booths, but aspirate in withe and withes. 

In the adjective forms, as, blithe, lithe, and in the verb 
forms bathe, clothe, mouth, sheathe, wreathe, &c., the th is 


5. The letter a when used as an article is always given it* 
long or name sound when emphatic. When imemphatic it 
becomes obscure Italian a, even verging toward short u when 
rendered very lightly. 

6. The article the, when emphatic, is pronounced with e 
long. When unemphatic before a vowel the e verges toward 
short i. Before a consonant sound, it passes through all the 
degrees of change from long e to obscure short u, according 
to the degree of emphasis. 

7. The vowel of the pronoun my, when quite unemphatic, 
may take the sound of short i. In forms of address, so fre- 
quently used by English dramatists, the short i is preferred; 
as, " My lord, the queen would speak with you, and pres- 

8. The sound of s when followed by that of long u, or the 
pronoun you, is often incorrectly changed to sh. The sound 
of followed by that of sh is, in like manner, changed to zh. 
The following examples may serve to illustrate these two 
faults: * God bless you,' 'We shall miss you,' 'He will pass 
Utica,' 'As sure as you go,' ' I was sure he would come.' 

9. While care should be taken not to drop the d of the 
conjunction and, yet to sound it fully, in every instance, 
as some authors would have us do, would be the veriest 
pedantry. In uttering the word, the organs pass from the 
n position into that oi d, but the power given to the latter 
sound depends greatly npon the first sound of the next 
word. To finish the d perfectly would be not only to mar 
the fluency of speech, but also to break the magnetic chain 
of thought. 

10. With all the irregularities of our language, it is not to 
be wondered at that words are frequently mispronounced. 
Many of the forms are so arbitrary, and the caprices of the 
age so numerous, that few persons can claim to be above 
criticism in the matter of pronunciation. And yet, whatever 
apology or excuse for faults we may discover in this, we 
should be more ready to apply such excuse to others' pro- 
nunciation than to our own. 




To THE Teacher.— While maay of the exercises given under " Eecreatlona 
In Articulation" may create amusement in a class, a higher motive than 
"Amusement" has prompted their insertion. Practice is here afforded ia 
nearly every form of difficult articulation. 

1. Did you say a notion or an ocean ? 

2. Bring me some ice, not some mice. 

3. Thou laicl'st down and slept'st. 

4. A big black bug bit a big black bear. 

5. It will pain nobody, if the sad dangler regain neither 

6. He crossed wastes and deserts, and wept bitterly, 
T'. Life's fitful fever over, he rests well. 

8. Would that all difierence of sects were at an end. 

9. Make clean our hearts. 

10. The old cold scold sold a school coal-scuttle. 

11. His beard descending swept his aged breast. 

12. Eight great gray geese grazing gaily into Greece. 

13. The cat ran up the ladder with a lump of raw liver 
in her mouth. 

14. Amos Ames, the amiable aeronaut, aided in an aerial 
enterprise at the age of eiglity-eight. 

15. I battled with the waves, and stronger 
Grew, as stronger grew the gale. 


16. Thou bridl'dst thy tongue, wreath'dst thy lips wi'h 
smiles, imprisoii'dst thy wrath, and truckl'dst to tliino 
enemy's power. 

17. Thou reason'dst folsely, harden'dst thine heart, 
emother'df^t the lij^^it of thine understanding, hearken'dst lo 
the Words of lying lips, and doom'dst thyself to misery. 

18. He accepts the office, and attempts ty his acts to 
conceal his faults. 

19. If he reflect, he will take prompt means to secure 
their clubs and save his ribs. 

20. T\Tien Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, 
The line, too, labors, and the words move slow; 
Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain, 

Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the 


1. She says she shall sew a sheet. 

2. Old age has on their temples shed her silver frost. 
8. Charles Smith's Thucydides. 

4. He sawed six long, slim, sleek, slender saplings. 

5. The peevish, feeble freeman feebly fought for freedom, 

6. A rural ruler, truly rural. 

7. Don't run along the wrong lane. 

8. Oh, the torment of an ever-meddling memory I 

9. She could pain nobody. 

10. Five wise wives weave withered withes. 

11. A snowy sheet, as if each surge upturned a sailor's 

12. Summer showers and soft sunshine shed sweet influ' 
ences on spreading shrubs and shooting seeds. 


13. And I know that the witness which he witnesseth of 
me is true. 

14. He was attacked with spasms, and died miserably by 
the road-side. 

15. Death ravaged for months throughout the whole 
length and breadth of the land. 

16. Whelply "^^Hiewell White was a whimsical, whining, 
whispering, whittling whistler. 

17. Thirty-three thousand and thirty-three thoughtless 
youths thronged the thoroughfare, and thought that they 
could thvi'art three thousand thieves by throwing thimbles at 

18. Our eagle shall rise 'mid the whirlwinds of war, 
And dart through the dun cloud of battle, his eye. 

19. When loud surges lash the aounding shore, 

The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar. 

20. Thou that dost scare the world with tempests set on 

The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fill 
The swift dark whirlwind that uproots the woods, 
Where is the mortal that forgets not at the sight 
Of these tremendous tokens of thy power. 
His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by ? 


1. Some shun sun-shine ; do you shun sun-shine ? 

2. She sells sea-shells ; shall he sell sea-shells? 

3. All night it lay an ice drop there. 

4. His crime moved me, 

5. The magistrates ought to arrest the rogues speedily. 

6. Laid in the cold, cold ground. 

7. As thou found'st, so thou keep'st me. 


8. He built a nice house near the lake, and shouted. 
" Ice-cream for two young ladies." 

9. Oh, studied deceit! what a sad angler thou art! 

10. Such pretty pranks Frank's prawns play in the tanks. 

11. Kemuel Kirkham Kames cruelly kept the kiss that 
his cousin Catharine Kennedy cried for. 

12. Thou lighten'dst his cares, strengthen 'dst his nerves, 
and lengthen'dst his life, 

13. Thou lov'dst nature's wildest haunts ; thou wander'dst 
through the deepest forests, climb'dst the loftiest mountains, 
explor'dst the deepest caverns, linger'dst by the noisiest 
streams, look'dst upon the ocean, and listen'dst to its roar. 

14. Regardless of troubles and wrongs, he curbed the anger 
of that disturbed rabble. 

15. He laughs, and quaflfs his ale, knowing that the rafts 
and skiffs are on the reefe near the cliffs. 

16. Round the rough and rugged rocks the ragged rascals 
rudely ran. 

17. Then honor shall weave of the laurel a crown, 
That beauty shall bind on the brow of the brave. 

18. Beneath the booth, I found baths, cloths, laths, moths, 
iheaths, paths, and wreaths. 

19. The hidden ocean showed itself anew, 
And barren wastes still stole upon the \dew. 

20. Thrice six thick thistle sticks thrust straight through 
three throbbing thrushes. 

21. I said " literary, literally, literarily," not " literally, ^ 
literary, literarily." 

22. A storm ariseth on the sea. A model vessel is struggling 
amidst the war of elements, quivering and shivering, shrink- 
ing and battling like a thinking being. The merciless, rack- 
ing whirlwinds, like frightful fiends, howl and moan, and 
send sharp, shrill shrieks through the creaking cordage. 


snapping the sheets and masts. The sturdy sailors stand to 
their tasks, and weather the severest storm of the season. 

1. A shot-silk sash shop. 

2. A sure sign of sunshine. 

3. Be the same in thine own act and valdr. 

4. Goodness centers in the heart. 

5. Cut the pulpy pumpkin and put it in a pipkin. 

6. I said, " a knap-sack strap," not " a knap-sack's strap." 

7. Henry Hingham has hung his harp on the hook 
where he hitherto hung his hope. 

8. Thou mangl'dst his writings, trifl'dst with his affec- 
tions, and hurl'dst him from his high position. 

9. Thou kindl'dst his hopes, but robb'dst him of his 
peace ; thou blacken'dst his character, and troubl'dst his life. 

10. He reads the acts of government, and expects to learn 
the facts in the case. 

11. Directly after these accidents, numerous attempts 
were made to emigrate. 

12. Gibeon Gordon Grelglow, the great Greek gram- 
marian, graduated at Grilgrove College. 

13. Prithee, blithe youth, do not mouth your words when 
you wreathe your face with smiles. 

14. He spoke reasonably, philosophically, disinterestedly, 
and yet particularly, of the unceremoniousness of their com- 
municability, and peremptorily, authoritatively, unhesitat- 
ingly declared it to be wholly inexplicable. 

15. The laurel-crowned clown crouched cowering into 
the cupboard. 


IG. Ilis exclamation was, " Chaste stars ! " not " Chase 
tars ! " 

17. Masses of immense magnitude move majestically 
through the vast empire of the solar bysteni. 

18. From thy throne in the sky, thou look'st and laugh'st 
at the storm, and guid'st the bolts of Jove. 

ir>. Pie had respectable talents, but was objectionable to 
the people from his want of principle, and his readiness to 
truckle to men in power. 

1. The sun shines on the shop signs. 

2. Sheba Sherman Shelly sharpened his shears and 
sheared his sheep. 

3. Benjamin Bramble Blimber, a blundering banker, bor- 
rowed the baker's birchen broom to brush the blinding cob- 
webs from his brain. 

4. That fellow shot a minnow on a willow, in the narrow 
meadow, near the yellow house. 

5. Did you say you saw the spirit sigh, or the spirit's eye, 
or the spirit's sigh ? I said I saw the spirit's eye, not the spirit 
eigh, nor the spirit's sigh. 

12. House, and the hound, and the horn, that 

belonged to the 

11. Farmer, that sowed the corn, that kept the 

10. Cock, that crowed in the morn, that waked the 

9. Priest all shaven and shorn, that married the 

8. Man all tattered and torn, that kissed the 

7. Maiden all forlorn, that milked the 

G. Cow with the crumpled horn, that tossed the 

5. Dog that worried the 

4. Cat that killed the 

3. Rat that ate the 

2. Malt that lay in the 

1. House that Jack built. 


7. Theophilus Thistle, the successful thistle sifter, in sift- 
ing a sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust three thousand this- 
tles through the thick of his thumb. Now if Theophilus This- 
tle, the successful thistle sifter, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted 
thistles, thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of 
his thumb, see that thou, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted 
thistles, thrust not three thousand thistles through the thick 
of thy thumb. Success to the successful thistle sifter. 

8. A day or two ago, during a lull in business, two little 
boot-blacks, one white and one black, were standing at the 
corners doing nothing, when the white boot-black agreed to 
black the black boot-black's boots. The black boot-black 
was of course willing to have his boots blacked by his fellow 
boot-black, and the boot-black who had agreed to black the 
black boot-black's boots w^ent to work. 

When the boot-black had blacked one of the black boot- 
black's boots till it shone in a manner that would make any 
boot-black proud, this boot-black who had agreed to black 
the black boot-black's boots refused to black the other boot 
of the black boot-black until the black boot-black, who had 
consented to have the white boot-black black his boots, 
should add five cents to the amount the white boot-black 
had made blacking other men's boots. This the boot-black 
■ whose boot had been blacked refused to do, saying it was 
good enough for a black boot-black to have one boot blacked, 
and he didn't care whether the boot that the white boot- 
black hadn't blacked was blacked or not. 

This made the boot-black who had blacked the black boot- 
black's boot as angry as a boot-black often gets, and he 
vented his black wrath by spitting upon the blacked boot 
of the black boot-black. This roused the latent passions of 
the black boot-black, and he proceeded to booc the white 
boot-black with the boot which the white boot-black had 
blacked. A fight ensued, in which the white boot-black who 
had refused to black the unblacked boot of the black boot- 
black blacked the black boot-black's visionary organ, and 
in which the black boot-black wore all the blacking ofifhis 
blacked boot in booting the white boot-black. 

Shrewd Simon Short sewed shoes. Seventeen summers* 
storms and sunshine, saw Simon's small, shabby shop stand- 
ing staunch, saw Simon's self-same sign still swinging 


Silently specifying: "Simon Short, Smithfield's sole surviv- 
ing shoemaker. Shoes sewed and soled superfinely." 
Simon's spry sedulous spouse, Sally Short, sewed shirts, 
stitched sheets, and stuffed soflis. Simon's six stout sturdy 
sons— Seth, Samuel, Stephen, Saul, Shadrach and Silas, sol^ 
sundries. Sober Seth sold sugar, starch, spices ; simple Sam 
sold saddles, stirrups, screws ; sagacious Stephen sold silks, 
satins, shawls; skeptical Saul sold silver salvers, silver 
spoons; selfish Shadrach sold shoe strings, soaps, saws, 
skates ; slack Silas sold Sally Short's stuffed solas. 

Some seven summers since, Simon's second son, Samuel, 
saw Sophia Sophronia Spriggs somewhere. Sweet, sensible, 
smart Sophia Sophronia Spriggs ! Sam soon showed strange 
symptoms. Sam seldom stayed at the store selling saddles, but 
sighed sorrowfully, sought Sophia Sophronia's society, sang 
several serenades slily. Simon stormed, scolded severely, 
said Sam, seemed so silly, singing such shameful, senseless 

" Strange Sam should slight such splendid summer sales," 
said Simon. "Strutting spendthrift! shatter-brained sim- 
pleton ! " 

" Softly, softly, sire " said Sally ; " Sam's smitten — Sam's 
spied a sweetheart." 

" Sentimental schoolboy ! " snarled Simon ; " Smitten ! Stop 
such stuff ! " 

Simon sent Sally's snuff-box spinning, seized Sally's scis- 
sors, smashed Sally's spectacles, and scattered several spools. 
" Sneaking scoundrel ! Sam's shocking silliness shall sur- 
cease ! " Scowling Simon stopped speaking, starting swiftly 
shopward. Sally sighed sadly. Summoning Sam she spoke 
sweet sympathy. 

" Sam," said she, " sire seems singularly snappy : so, son, 
stop strolling, stop smoking segars and spending specie super- 
fluously; stop sprucing so; stop singing serenades, — stop 
short: sell saddles, son; sell saddles sensibly; see Sophia 
Sophronia Spriggs soon; she's sprightly, she's staple, so 
solicit and secure Sophia speedily, Sam." 

" So soon ? so soon ? " said Sam, standing stock still. 

"So soon ! surely," said Sally, smiling, "specially since sire 
shows such spirit," 

So Sam, somewhat scared, sauntered slowlj', shaking stu- 
pendously. Sam soliloquizes : 

" Sophia Sophronia Spriggs Short — Sophia Sophronia 
Short, Samuel Short's spouse — sounds splendid! Suppose 
she should say — she sha'n't ! " 

Soon Sam spied Sophia starching shirts and singing softly. 


Seeing Sara she stopped starching and saluted Sam smilingly. 
Sam stammered shockingly : 

" Sp-sp-splendid summer season, Sophia." 

" Somewhat sultry," suggested Sophia. 

" Sar-sartin, Sophia," said Sam. (Silence seventeen sec- 

'' Selling saddles still, Sam ? " 

" Sar-sar-sartin," said Sam, sta.rting suddenly. " Season's 
somewhat soporific," said Sam, stealthily staunching stream- 
ing sweat, shaking sensibly. 

"Sartin," said Sophia, smiling significantly. "Sip some 
sweet sherbet, Sam." (Silence sixty seconds.) 

" Sire shot sixty sheldrakes, Saturday," said Sophia. 

" Sixty ? sho I " said Sam. (Silence seventy-seven sec- 

" See sister Susan's sunflowers," said Sophia, sociably scat- 
tering such stiff silence. 

Sophia's sprightly sauciness stimulated Sam strangely : so 
Sam suddenly spoke sentimental!}" : " Sophia, Susan's sun- 
flowers seem saying, "Samuel Short and Sophia Sophronia 
Spriggs, stroll serenely and seek some sequestered spot, some 
sylvan shade. Some sparkling spring shall sing soul-sooth- 
ing strains; sweet songsters shall silence secret sighing; 
super-angelic sjdphs shall — ' " 

Sophia snickered : so Sam stopped. 

" Sophia," said Sam, solemnly. 

" Sam," said Sophia. 

"Sophia, stop smiling. Sam Short's sincere. Sam's seek- 
ing some sweet spouse, Sophia. Speak, Sophia, speak I 
Such suspense speeds sorrow." 

" Seek sire, Sam, seek sire." 

So Sam sought sire Spriggs. Sire Sprigs said, "Sartin." 

Seven short sabbaths later saw Sophia Sophronia Spriggs 
the smiling spouse of Simon Short's son Samuel. 


True Expression consists in the most natural and effective 
giving out of sentiment or emotion. It may be by form, 
color, language, movement, or sound. 

In Elocution, correct Expression relates to those adapta- 
tions of the human voice necessary to convey the meaning 
and spiHt of the author. It involves a proper use of all the 
•physical organs, but only becomes effective through the exer- 
cise of the intellectual and emotional faculties. Appropriate 
expression constitutes the soul power of spoken language. 

The word siguifies giving out, and therefore presupposes 
something within. Hence it is of first importance to the Ex- 
pression of a thought that the speaker have ivithin him the 
thouglit to be expressed. 

To this end he should make a thorough analysis of the 
language, and should answer for himself such questions as 
the following: Wliat is the prevailing thought in the pas- 
sage? What are the subordinate thoughts, and how are 
they related to the prevailing thought? Is any part of the 
sentence merely incidental to the main sentence, and how 
near or distant is the relation? What was the probable 
state of the author's mind when he expressed the tliought? 
What were the circumstances which called it forth ? 
How should 2/oi(. feel, and how would you have expressed the 
same sentiment, had the same circumstances moved you? 

The mind will thus be led to a full and ]\\st comprehension of 
the sentiment, and a sympathy will be awakened. A compre- 
hension o( the thought v^^iW render it intelligent in its expres 
61 on. Sympathy with the thought will give spirit to the ex- 
pression. Let the student ever keep in mind that no skill of 


art pan substitute iov intelligence and spirit in oral e:xpression. 
It is, however, yet necessary that the utterance be under 
such control that it may be made to harmonize T\'ith all 
^ the infinite lights and shades of thought. True expression 
ahould be carefully distinguished from mere fervor of spirit 
and emotional violence. It is infinitely more than this; it is 
spirit put under law. It is power under control. Herein con- 
sists the art of adaptation. The three great essentials, then, 
which every speaker should keep before him, are compre- 
hension, sympathy, adaptation. 

The changes of voice necessary to expression constitute 
the modulations of speech. 


Modulation consists in the adaptation of speech to the 
sentiment it is designed to convey. The various changes or 
modulations are quality, pitch, force, time, and slides, or in- 


Note. — Quality concerns the kind of voice and its relation to the kind or 
quality of sentiment. It has been fully treated as an element of vocal culture 
in its proper place under that hpad, though its practical application, as an 
element of expression, belongs to Modulation. For discussion and exercises, see 
page 59. 


Pitch relates to the High and Low of the voice. 

Note.— Although the different degrees ofP'toh aredeterrainpdby the musical 
scale, the changes are usually produced by sciAle, while in music they are uoually 
produced by steps. 

Pitch, like the other modulations, must be found in the 
sentiment. There is up and d,own in thought and feeling. 
Joy and victory are up. Melancholy and awe are doivn. To 
respond to these qualities of sentiment, the sense must be 
quick to perceive, and the voice must be capable of prompt 
and graceful change, either by slide or step. 


Til e different de2:recs of Pitch are produced by the differ- 
ent degrees of tension of the vocal cords. 

Natural or unemotional sentiment will leave the vocal cords in 
their most natural condition, and they will produce a natural 
or medium tone. 

Exaltation of spirit will cause a tension of the vocal cords, 
and they will produce a correspondingly high tone. 

Depression of spirit will cause the vocal cords to relax, and 
the tone will be low. 

There are, therefore, in Elocution, three natural divisions 
of Pitch, — Medium, High, and Low. From these, other divi- 
sions may be made. 

Note 1. — Each of these divisions must necessarily cover a range or variety of 
sentiment. When the student is satisfied that the sentiment belongs to the 
medium range, or the high or low range, he is likely to adapt the changes 
within that range more gracefully and less mechanically than if he adapts his 
Pitch too strictly to the musical scale. By the latter method he is liable to 
speak by the musical tones rather than by the speaking tones. 

Note 2. — The student should most carefully guard the quality of the tone li» 
the practice of the High and Low extremes. 

Language of Medium Pitch. — Unemotional language, such 
as ordinary conversation, simple narration, and plain 
description, and all language of natural full force, should be 
expressed within the range of Medium Pitch. 

Language of High Pitch. — Passages of calling, command, 
gayety, joy, victory, and extreme grief, are expressed within 
the range of High Pitch. 

Language op Low Pitch. — Melancholy, reverence, awe, 
despair, and language of the supernatural, are expressed 
within the range of Low Pitch. 


varieties of medium pitch. 

1- The city and republic of Carthage were destroyed by 
tlio terminntion of the third Puuic war, about oue hundred 
aiid tifty years before Christ. 


2. We must educate ! We must educate ! or we must 
perish by our own prosperity. If we do not, short from the 
cradle to the grave will be our race. — Lyman Beecher, 

3. Blessed are the merciful : for they shall obtain mercy. 
Blessed are the pure m heart : for they shall see God. Blessed 
are the peacemakers : for they shall be called the children of 
God.— Bible. 

4. Up from the meadows rich with corn, 
Clear in the cool September morn, 
The clustered spires of Frederick stand 
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. 

— /. G. Whitlier, 

5. So through the night rode Paul Revere ; 

And so through the night went his cry of alarm 

To every Middlesex village and farm— 

A cry of defiance and not of fear, 

A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, 

And a word that shall echo forevermorel 

For, borne on the night wind of the Past, 

Through all our history to the last. 

In the hour of darkness, and peril, and need. 

The people will waken and listen to hear 

The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed, 

And the midnight message of Paul Revere. 

— R. W. Longfellow, 

For selections containing additional examples of Medium 
Pitch, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 4, pages 19 and 137 ; 
Ko. 5, pages 135 and 138. 


Half a league, half a league, 

Half a league onward, 
All in the valley of death 

Rode the six hundred. 

'* Forward, the Light Brigade I 

Charge for the guns ! " he said : 
Into the valley of Death 
Rode the six hundred. 



2. I come ! I come ! — ye have called me long : 

I come o'er the moantains with light and song! 
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, 
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, 
^ By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass, 

By the green leaves opening as I pass. 

— Mrs. Hemans. 

3. " Yonng men, ahoy ! " 
"What is it?" 

" Beware ! beware ! The rapids are below you ! " 
" See how fast you pass that point ! Up with the 
helm ! Now turn ! Pall hard ! Quick ! quick ! quick ! 
pull for your lives ! pull till the blood starts from your nos- 
trils, and the veins stand like whip-cords on your brow ! " 

— John B. Gough. 

4. Go ring the bells and fire the guns, 

And fling the starry banners out ; 
Shout " Freedom ! " till your lisping ones 
Give back their cradle shout. 

5. Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth : make 
a loud noise, and rejoice, and sing praise. Sing unto the Lord 
with the harp; with the harp and the voice of a psalm. 
With trumpets and sound of cornet make a joyful noise be- 
fore the Lord, the King. Let the sea roar, and the full- 
ness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein. 

Let the floods clap their hands: let the hills be joyful 
together before the Lord ; for he cometh to judge the 
earth: with righteousness shall he judge the world, and the 
people with equity. — Bible. 

6. Tliey strike ! hurrah ! the fort has surrendered! 
Shout ! shout ! my warrior boy, 

And wave your cap, and clap your hands for joy. 
Cheer answer cheer, and bear the cheer about. 
Hurrah ! hurrah ! for the fiery fort is ours. 
" Victory ! victory ! victory ! " 
Is the shout. 
Shout for the fiery fort is ours, and the field 
And the day are ours ! 

For selections containing additional examples of High 


)^tch, pee Elocutionist's Annual, No. 1, page 148 ; No. 2, page 
l'^; No. 3, page 147. 


J.. 'Tis midni.s:ht's holy hour, — and silence now 
Is brooding like a gentle spirit o'er 
Tlie still and pulseless world. Hark ! on the winds 
The bell's deep tones are swelling — 'tis the knell 
Of the departed year. 

— Geo. D. Prentice. 

2. So live, that when thy summons comes to join 
The innumerable caravan that moves 
To that mj^sterious realm, where each shall take 
His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, 
Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed 
By an unf^iltering trust, approach thy grave 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 

— William Cullen Bryant, 

8. Your sorrows, O people, are his peace ! Your bells and 
bands, and muffled drums sound triumph in his ear. Wail 
*nd weep here ! Pass on ! — Beecher, 

4. My father's spirit in arras ! all is not well ; 

I doubt some foul play : would the night were come ! 
Till then sit still, my soul : Foul deeds will rise, 
Though all the earth o'erwhelms them, to men's eyes. 

— Shakspeare. 

5. In thoughts from the ^dsions of the night, when deep 
sleep falleth on men, fear came upon me, and trembling, 
which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed 
before my face ; the hair of my flesh stood up : it stood still, 
but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before 
mine eyes ; tiiere was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, 
Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be 
more pure than his maker ? — Bible. 

For selections containing additional examples of Low 


Pitch, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 2, page 40 ; No. 3, pages 
9 and 126. 

Force relates to the Loud and Soft of the voice. 

The Force of speech must be regulated by the intensity of 
the emotion which the sentiment inspires. We think and 
feel with different degrees of intensity. We should speak 
with corresponding degrees of Force. 

The changes of Force are produced by the different degrees 
of power with which the breath is applied upon the vocal 

The student should not mistake mere noise or physical ex- 
ertion for Force. True Force includes the idea of moral 
power, and is often more manifest in a certain stateliness or 
majesty of tone than in great exhibition of voice and man- 
ner. It is the result of a uniform intensity of the whole 
being, and of such a repose as will reflect reserve power, 
which is, after all, the truest Force. 

The student is especially cautioned against the substitution 
of Pitch for Force. This is probably the most common error 
known to public speakers. The moral force of a passage or a 
discourse is often entirely neutralized by elevating the 
Pitch. Changes of Force should be made without change of 
Pitch unless the peculiar character of the thought requires 

Cultivation in Force follows the general principle laid 
down by all true elocutionary training, that it begins with pure 
conversation. The most natural Force is that which the culti- 
vated voice takes most readily in conversational utterance. In 
its relation to loud and soft it always approaches a medium be- 
tween the two extremes, and is therefore most appropriately 
called Medium Force. From this the student may readily 
pass to the extremes of Fullund Subdued. 

Language op Medium Force. — Unemotional language, or 
language of ordinary conversation, simple narration, and 


plain description, is expressed within the different degrees of 
Medium Force. 

Language of Full Force. — Passages of defiance and 
anger, bold, declamatory utterances, shouting, calling and 
rejoicing, require Full Force. 

Language of Subdued Force. — Sentiments of tenderness, 
quiet, pathos, melancholy, reverence and awe, should be 
uttered with Subdued Force. 



1. I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then 

withdrawn ; 
But still the sun shines round me , the evening bird 

sings on, 
And I again am soothed, and, beside the ancient gate. 
In this soft evening sunlight, I calmly stand and wait. 

2. Miss Kindly is aunt to everybody, and has been so 
long that none remember to the contrary. The little chil- 
dren love her; she helped their grandmothers to bridal orna- 
ments three-score years ago. — Parker. 

3. And there shall be no night there; and they need 
no candle, neither light of the sun ; for the Lord God giveth 
them light : and they shall reign for ever and ever. — Bible. 

4. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, 
chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages, princes' 
palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions. 
I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than 
be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The 
brain may devise laws for the blood ; but a hot temper leaps 
over a cold decree. — Shakspeare. 

5. Young Lochinvar is come out of the West ! 
Through all the wide border his steed was the best ; 


And save his good broadsword he u'eapons had none ; 
He rode all unarmed and he rode all alone. 
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. 


For selections containing additional examples of Medium 
Force, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 2, page 152 ; No. 3, page 


1. Were I an American, as I am an Englishman, while a 
Bingle foreign troop remained in my country, I would never 
lay down my arms. Never ! never ! never ! — yPitt, 

2. Then the earth shook and trembled ; the foundations also 
of the hills moved and were shaken, because he was wroth. 
There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, and fire out of 
his mouth devoured : coals were kindled by it. He bowed 
the heavens also, and came down : and darkness was under 
his feet. — Bible, 

3. Then soon he rose ; the prayer was strong; 
The Psalm was warrior David's song ; 

The text, a few short words of might — • 
^'The Lord of Hosts shall arm the right ! " 
He spoke of wrongs too long endured, 
Of sacred rights to be secured ; 

Then from his patriot tongue of flame 
The startling words of freedom came. 
The stirring sentences he spake 
Compelled heart to glow^ or quake, 
And, rising on the theme's broad wing, 

And grasping in his nervous hand 

The imaginary battle-brand, 
In face of death he dared to fling 
Defiance to a tyrant king. — T. B. Read. 

4. Our fathers raised their flag against a power to which, 
for purposes of foreign conquest and subjugation, Rome, in 
the lieight of her glory, is not to be compared — a power which 


has dotted the surface of the whole globe with her posses- 
sions and military posts ; whose morning drumbeat, follow- 
ing the sun in its course and keeping pace with the hours, 
circles the earth wdth one continuous and unbroken strain of 
the martial airs of England. — Daniel Webster, 

6. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition j 
By that sin fell the angels; how can man then, 
The image of his Maker, hope to win by 't? 
Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee: 
Corruption wins not more than honesty. 
* ^ ^ ^ * Be just, and fear not 
Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's, 
Thy God's, and Truth's ; then if thou fall'st, Crom- 
Thou fall'st a blessed mdiXtjv.—Shaksjpeare. 

For selections containing additional examples of Full 
Force, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 1, page 94 ; No. 3, pages 
64 and 124 ; No. 4, page 45. 


1. O sweet and strange it seems to me, that ere this day 

is done, 
The voice that now is speaking, may be beyond the 

sun — 
Forever and forever, — all in a blessed home — 
And there to wait a little while, till you and Effie 

come — 
To lie within the light of God, as I lie upon your 

breast — 
And the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary 

are at rest. — Tennyson. 

2 And, friends, dear friends, when it shall be 

That this low breath is gone from me, 
And round my bier ye come to weep, 
Let one, most loving of you all. 
Say, " Not a tear must o'er her fall; 
He giveth His beloved, sleep." 

— Mrs. Browning, 


8. Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord 
pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth our frame ; he 
remember eth that we are dust. As for man, his days are aa 
grass ; as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth : For the 
wind passeth over it, and it is gone ; and the place thereof 
shall know it no more. — Bible. 

4. But while she^ was still very young, — very, very 
young, — the sister drooped, and came to be so weak that she 
could no longer stand in the window at night ; and then the 
child looked sadly out by himself, and when he saw the star, 
turned round and said to the patient, pale face on the bed, " I 
see the star! " and then a smile would come upon the face, 
and a little, weak voice used to say, " God bless my brother 
and the star ! " — Dickens. 

5. *' father abbot 

An old man broken with the storms of state. 

Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; 

Give him a little earth for charity I " 

So went to bed : where eagerly his sickness 

Pursued him still : and, three nights after this, 

About the hour of eight (which he himself 

Foretold should be his last), full oi repentance, 

Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows. 

He gave his honors to the world again, 

His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace. 

— Shakspeare. 

For selections containing additional examples of Subdued 
Force, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 5, page 112 j No. 6, 
pages 104 and 105. 

Time has reference to the Fast and Slow of speech. 

Sentiment has in it the quality of movement, and requirec 
a corresponding quality in the expression. 

Changes of time are as indispensable to varietj^as changes 
of Pitch and Force. Many speakers give proper attention to 
the latter, slide skillfully, and use appropriate quality, who are 
yet monotonous owing to uniformity of Time. They move 


through melancholy and gaj'^ety, the dirge and the battle, at 
the same degree of speed : or their individual words have 
merely the Time necessary to their pronunciation, or the 
pauses are measured, rather than adapted, or it may be that 
in all of these conditions, the Time is set and formal, so 
that the expression falls upon the ear with painful monotony. 

Appropriate changes of Time also reflect self-control, show- 
ing that slow or rapid utterance is not ihe result of tem- 
perament, or of an excited condition of the speaker, but that 
they are his servants, to be used according to his need. 

Time ia divided into Eate, Quantity, Pause. 

Time, as applied to a collection of words, is called Rate. 

The natural divisions of Eate, are Medium, Fast, and Slow, 
from which other divisions may be made. 

Language of Medium Eate. — The various styles of unim- 
passioned discourse should be expressed within the varieties 
of Medium Eate. 

Language of Eapid Eate. — Sentiments of gayety and joy, 
and language indicating hasty action or rapid change oi 
scene, should be expressed in Eapid Eate. 

Language of Slow Eate. — Descriptions of slow move- 
ment and sentiments of solemnity, reverence, awe, melan- 
•eholy, and despair, should be expressed in Slow Eate. 


varieties of IklEDIUlVI RATE. 

1, Maud Muller, on a summer's day, 
Eaked the meadow, sweet with hay. 

— Whittier. 

2. Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, 
and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a 
Mukling cymbal. — Bible^ 

124 PRACTICAL rxocunoN. 

3. She thanked me, and bade me if I had a friend that 
loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, and 
that would woo her. — Shakspeare, 

4. To make men patriots, to make men Christians, to 
make men the sons of God, let all the doors of heaven be 
opened, and let God drop down charmed gifts — winged im- 
aginations, all-perceiving reason, and all-judging reason. 
Whatever there is that can make men wiser and better — let 
it descend upon the head of him who has consecrated him- 
self to the work of mankind, and who has made himself an 
orator for man's sake and for God's sake. — H. W. Beecher, 

For selections containing additional examples of Medium 
Rate, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 1, page 101 ; No. 2, page 
117 ; No. 3, page 42 ; No. 6, page 171. 


1. A hurry of hoofs in a village street, 

A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, 
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark 
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet; 
That was all ! — Longfellow. 

2. A cannon which breaks its moorings becomes abruptly 
some indescribable, supernatural beast. It is a machine 
which transforms itself into a monster. This mass runs on 
its wheels, like billiard-balls, inclines with the rolling, 
plunges with the pitching, goes, comes, stops, seems to medi- 
tate, resumes its course, shoots from one end of the ship to 
the other like an arrow, whirls, steals awaj'', evades, prances, 
(Strikes, breaks, kills, exterminates. — Victor Hugo. 

3. Never, never: Come away, away ; 
We'll burn his body in the holy place, 

And with the brands fire the traitor's houses I 
Take up the body. — Shakspeare. 

4. I chatter, chatter, as T flow 

To join the brimming river, 
For men may come, and men may go, 
But I go on forever. — Tennyson. 


5. So light to the croup the fair lady he swung, 
So light to the saddle before her he sprung ; 
" She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ; 
They'll have fleet steeds that follow ! " quoth young 
Lochinvar. — Scott. 

Yov selections containing additional examples of Rapid 
Rate, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 2, page 17 ; No. 3, page 
15; No. 6, page 17. 


I. And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting 
Oti the pallid bust of Pallas, just above my chamber-door ; 
And bis eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is 

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow 

on the floor ; 
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on 

the floor 
Shall be lifted — nevermore ! — Poe. 

2. Lord, our Lord, how excellent is Thy name in all the 
earth, who hast set Thy glory above the heavens. When I 
consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers ; the moon 
and the stars, which Thou hast ordained ; what is man that 
Thou art mindful of him ? and the son of man, that Thou 
visitesthim? For Thou hast made him a little lower than 
the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honor. 
Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of Thy 
hands : Thou hast put all things under his feet. Oh Lord, 
our Lord, how excellent is Thy name in all the earth. 


3. Hear the tolling of the bells — 
Iron bells ! 
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels I 
In the silence of the night 
How we shiver with affright 
At the melancholy menace of their tone. 
For every sound that floats 
From the rust within their throats 
Is a groan. — Poe. 


4. The hours pass slowly by — nine, ten, eleven — how 
polemnly the last stroke of the clock floats out upon the still 
air. It dies gently uway, swells out again in the distance, 
and seems to be caught up by spirit-voices of departed years, 
until the air is filled with melancholy strains. It is the re- 

''quiem of the dying year. 

Tenderly, mournfully it lingers upon the ear and sinks 
into the heart ; slowly and softly it dies away. The clock 
strikes twelve ; the grave opens and closes, and the old year 
is buried. — Brooks. 

5. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow 
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day. 
To the last syllable of recorded time. 

— Shakspeare. 

For selections containing additional examples of Slow 
Rate, see Elocutionist's Annual, No. 1, page 105 ; No. 2, page 
150 ; No. 3, page 153. 














To THE Teacher. — ^The above formula should be placed on the blaclcboard. 
Announce a sentence, — for example: "0 ye hard hearts! ye cruel men of 
Rome!" and beginning with Medium Pilch, practice the student on the 
Medium and the extremes until he can make the chunges with promptness and 
accuracy. Follow this with a similar exercise in Force and in Rate. When he 
has mastered these changes in their individual application, the exercise may be 
made more difficult by combining them according to the following : 

Illustration. — Ask the class to utter the sentence, "0 ye hard hearts, ye 
cruel men of Rome I " in Medium Pitch, Medium Force, and Medium Time. 
After proper explanation, point from one to another of the ditferent degrees of 
the different modulations. You may point to Full, under Force. The student 
or class should give the sentence as before in Pitch and Rate, bnt change the 
Force to Full. You may then point to Slow, under Rate. The class ehoald 


retain the Full Force as at the preceding exercise, also Medium Pitch, as it has 
not yet been changed, but change the Rate to Slow. These changes may be 
continued indefinitely, and cannot fail to give flexibility to the voice, and tha 
capability of a ready adaptation in response to the changes of sentiment. 


Quantity is time upon words. 

Words stand for ideas, and according to the nature of the 
idea to which the word refers, it is prolonged or shortened. 
The word " long " should receive more length of time than 
" short," though the latter contains more letters. " Cut " and 
" saw " should be pronounced according to the several ac- 
tions they represent. Reversed in time, they will fail to 
represent their respective meanings. 

Appropriate Quantity contributes greatly to the relative 
importance of the words in a sentence. 

Quantity may be Medium, Long, or Short. 

Words possessing no marked significance are uttered in 
Medium Quantity. 

Words of dignity and strength require Long Quantity. 

Words of impatience, stubbornness, and of sudden action, 
require Short Quantity. 



1. Consider the lilies how they grow ; they toil not, they 
spin not, and yet I say unto you that Solomon in all his 
glory was not arrayed like one of these. — Bible. 

2. What's in a name ? That which we call a rose, by any 
other name would smell as sweet. — Shakspeare. 

3 I own a mule. It is the first mule I ever had, and will 
be the last one. My mind is my mule. — Crowl. 



1. Death ! "where is thy sting? 

O Grave I where is thy victory? 


2. O the long and dreary Winter I 

O the cold and cruel Winter ! 
Ever thicker, thicker, thicker 
Froze the ice on lake and river; 
Ever deeper, deeper, deeper 
Fell the snow o'er all the landscape, 
Fell the covering snow, and drifted 
Through the forest, round the village. 

— Longfellow. 

8. To die — to sleep, — 

Ko more ! — and, by a sleep, to say we end 
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks 
That flesh is heir to, — 'tis a consummation 
Devoutly to be wished. To die, — to sleep ; — 
To sleep ! — perchance to dream — aye, there's the rub I 
For, in that sleep of death, what dreams may come, 
When we have shuffled off" this mortal coil, 
Must give us pause l—Shakspeare, 

4. lonely tomb in Moab's land ! 

dark Beth-peor's hill ! ^ 

Speuk to these curious hearts of ours. 

And teach them to be still. 
God hath his mysteries of grace, — 

AVays that we cannot tell ; 
He hides them deep, like the secret sleep 
Of him he loved so well. 

— C. F. Alexander. 


1. I can as well be hanged, as tell the manner of it : it 
was mere foolery. I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony 
offer him a crown ; — yet t'was not a crown neither, t'was one 
of these coronets, — and, as I told you, he put it by once; but 
for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then 
he offered it to him again ; then lie put it by again ; but, to 
my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And 


then he offered it a third time ; he put it the third time by : 
and still as he refused it, the rabblement hooted, and clapped 
their chapped hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, 
and uttered such a deal of stinking breath, because Csesar re- 
fused the crown, that it had almost choked Caesar ; for he 
swooned, and fell down at it. — Shakspeare. 

2. " Quit the bust above ray door ! 

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form 
from off my door ! " — Poe. 

3. And he answering, said to his father, Lo, these many 
years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy 
commandment; and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I 
might make merry with my friends. — Bible. 

A pause is an interval of time between words. 

There are two divisions of Pause, Grammatical and Ehe- 

The Grammatical Pause is designed mainly as a guide to the 
author's meaning, and the author's meaning should indicate 
the character and length of the Pause. 

The Ehetorical Pause marks the special separation of 
words as reflected by the general thought of the author, but 
which is not marked by the Grammatical Pause. The Ehe- 
torical Pause gives a peculiar force to the words which precede 
or follow it. It also indicates present action of the mind, 
giving to speech the effect of freshness and originality. The 
Ehetorical Pause is greatly varied in its application ; and in 
length, passes through every conceivable period of time, 
from the almost spiritual separation of words, to that of a 
short Grammatical Pause. 



1. In slumbers of midnight the sailor boy lay. 

His hammock swung loose at the sport of the wind, 


But watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away, 
And visions of happiness danced o'er his mind. 

— Dimond. 

2. It is more blessed to give than to receive. — Bible. 

3. Add to your faith virtue ; and to virtue knowledge ; 
and to knowledge temperance ; and to temperance patience. 


4. With deep afifection 

And recollection 
I often think of 

Those Shandon bells, 
V/hose sounds so 'wild would, 
In the days of childhood, 
Fling round my cradle 

Their magic spells. — Francis Mahony. 

The Rhetorical Pause frequently unites with the Gram- 
matical, taking from, or adding to, the time of the Grammati- 
cal Pause. 


1.^ " It must be so — Plato, thou reasonest well ! — 

Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, 

This longing after immortality ? 

Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, 

Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul 

Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 

'Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 

'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, 

And intimates eternity to man." — Addiso'%. 

2. Pause a moment I heard a footstep. Listen now. I 
heard it again ; l)ut it is going from us. It sounds fainter, — 
still fainter. It is gone. 

3. John, be quick. Get some water. Throw the powder 
overboard. " It can not be reached." Jump into the boat, 
then. Shove oflf. There goes the powder. Thank heaven. 
We are safe. 


The Slide is a change of pitch upon a word. 

Slides are upward and downward. 

The Upward and Downward Slides may be united. They 
then are known as the Wave or Circumflex. 

The lights and shades of thought which cannot be ex- 
pressed by the changes of Quality, Pitch, Force, or Time, are 
gathered up by the slide, and the expression is rendered com- 

The slides of the voice contribute, most of all the modu- 
lations, to the accuracy of speech. The mind of the hearer is 
turned from the general thought and conducted by the 
Slide to the individual ideas which may enter into a sen- 

The Slide also gives emphasis to the peculiar sentiment or 
feeling which calls it forth. In view of its eJffect, therefore, 
upon the accuracy and the emphasis of speech, the Slide may be 
regarded as the crowning poiver of expression. 

It is of constantly changing degree, according to the char- 
acter or intensity of sentiment. Its simplest form is the 
change of a single tone, and its most intense, that of the 
octave or eight tones. 

Slides are divided into conversational and emphatic. 

The Conversational Slide is used in all the simplest forms 
of speech. The changes of upward and downward are made 
chiefly in reference to variety in the expression, one or the 
other prevailing according as the sentiment tends to the 
negative or positive form which will be shown to govern the 
Emphatic Slide. 

The Emphatic Slide is more significant, and the principles 
governing its use are more closely defined. With reference 
to the Emphatic Slide, all language may be divided into posi- 
tive and negative. 

Positive language comprises what is completed, definitely 
stated or enjoined ; and as that which is completed is laid 
down, positive language takes the Downward Slide. 


Negative language comprises that which is subordinate, 
incomplete and indefinite, and as that which is unfinished is 
continued, or held up, negative language takea the Sustained 
Voice or Rising Slide. 

Note.— While the above is given as the most common governing principle of 
the Slide, yet it should be observed that the Slide is greatly subject to the 
demands of variety and melody, and to the connections of the thought in which 
it is found ; and is, therefore, less arbitrarily governed than the other modula- 

The Wave or Circumflex is a Double Slide. Its simplest 
use is in reflective pathos and solemnity. It is prominent in 
wit and in language of double meaning, sarcasm, irony, 
insinuation, and in surprise and astonishment. 

The Rising Circumflex terminates on the upward slide. 
The Falling Circumflex terminates on the downward slide. 

Tlie Circumflex is governed according to the general prin- 
ciple governing the Emphatic Slide. 


The following exercises, practiced in the order of the Dia- 
grams, and according to the directions, will lead the student 
quickly to a skilful management of the slides. 


/d -0 A^ /€f U 

^ / y / y 


-ifcXPLANATORY NoTE. — Practice the Conversational Slide 
upward on the long vowel sounds from the Medium Pitch. 
The degree of Slide is not arbitrary. Decide upon a degree 


within the range of ordinary conversation, and give to each 
sound the same Slide. 


^ \ s. \ ^ 

Explanatory Note.— Practice the Conversational Slide 
downward, as explained under Diagram 1. 


J J / / J 

a J^ ^ x/ a 

Explanatory Note. — Alternate the Conversational Slide 
upward and downward 

exercise 4. 

Explanatory Note. — Slide upward and downward from 
the extremes of the Pitch used in the Conversational Slide. 


Explanatory Note. — Practice the Emphatic SHde upward 
from. Medium to a degree of Pitch beyond that of ordinary 
conversation. The degree is not arbitrary, but should be 
uniform through the five sounds. 


a jB A xf M 

Explanatory Note. — Practice the Emphatic SUde dowi> 
ward, according to directions for Diagram 5. 

Explanatory Note. — Alternate the Emphatic Slide upward 
and downward. 




ExPLAJ^ATORY NoTE. — Slide upward and downward from 
the extremes of Pitch used in the Emphatic Slide. 

Suggestion to Teachers.— This Diagram, produced before the Class in the 
order of steps here indicated, with practice upon the several steps, -will give an 
ihteresting variety of exercise in Slide, with better results than the practice of 
any other one exercise for the same length of time. 


Note to Teacher oe Student. — Practice abundantly in simple questions, 
and common-place conversational language. Observe the natural turning of the 
voice upward and downward, and apply similar changes in such exercises as 
the following: 

1. My ancestors came from old Sparta, and settled among 
the vine-clad rocks and citron groves of Cyrasella. My 
early life ran quiet as the brooks by which I sported; and 
when, at noon, I gathered the sheep beneath the shade, and 
played upon the shepherd's flute, there was a friend, the son 
of a neighbor, to join me in the pastime. We led our flocks 
to the same pasture and partook together our rustic meal. 

— E. Kellogg. 

2, Juliet. — 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. 
What's in a name ? That which we call a rose, 
By any other name would smell as sweet. 

— Shakspeare, 


3. Art is never art till it is more than art : the finite 
exists only as to the body of the infinite. The man of 
genius must first know the infinite, unless lie wishes to 
become, not a poet, but a maker of idols. — Kingsley. 

4. Touch. — How old are you, friend ? 
Will. — Five and twenty, sir. 

Touch. — A ripe age. Is thy name "William ? 

Will. — William, sir. 

Touch. — A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here ? 

Will. — Ay, sir, I thank God. 

Touch. — Thank God ! a good answer. Art rich ? 

Will. — Faith, sir, so so. 

Touch. — So so is good, very good, — very excellent good : 

and yet it is not; it is but so so. — Shakspeare. 

5. Once came to our fields a pair of birds that had never 
built a nest nor seen a winter. Oh, how beautiful was every- 
thing! The fields were full of flowers, and the grass was 
growing tall, and the bees were humming everywhere. 

— Henry Ward Beecher. 

6. Mountains are, to the rest of the body of the earth, 
v/hat violent muscular action is to the bod}- of man. The 
muscles and tendons of its anatomy are, in the mountain, 
brought out with fierce and convulsive energy, full of 
expression, passion, and strength ; the plains and lower hills 
are the repose and the eff'ortless motion of the frame, when 
its muscles lie dormant and concealed beneath the lines of 
its beauty, yet ruling those lines in their every undulation. 
This, then, is the first grand principle of the truth of the 
earth. The spirit of the hills is action; that of the lowlands, 
repose ; and between these there is to be found every variety 
of motion and of rest; from the inactive plain, sleeping like 
the firmament, with cities for stars, to the fiery peaks, 
which, with heaving bosoms and exulting limbs, with the 
clouds drifting like hair from their bright foreheads, lift up 
their Titan hands to heaven, saying, "I live forever!" 

— RusJcin. 

7. 'Tis midnight's holy hour, — and silence now 
Is brooding like a gentle spirit o'er 

The still and pulseless world. Hark! on the winds 
The bell's deep tones are swelling — 'tis the knell 
Of the departed year. No luneral train 
Is sweeping past; yet, on the stream and wood. 


"With melancholy light, the moonbeama rest 
Like a pale, spotless shroud. — Geo. D. Prentice, 

8. Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain 
that build it : except the Lord keep the city, the watchman 
waketh but in vain. It is vain for you to rise up early, to 
sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrow : for so he giveth his 
beloved sleep. — Bible. 

9. We had come to the middle of our sermon, when a 
large fly, taking advantage of the open mouth of the speaker, 
darted into our throat. The crisis was upon us. Shall we 
cough and eject this impertinent intruder, or let him silently 
have his way? — Talmadge. 

10. God forbid that we should outlive the love of our 
children. Rather let us die while their hearts are a part of 
our own, that our grave may be watered with their tears and 
our love linked with their hopes of heaven. 

11. Would you make men trustworthy? Trust them. 
Would you make them true? Believe them. We win by 
tenderness, we conquer by forgiveness. — Bohertson. 


1. To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 
To throw a perfume on the violet, 

To smooth the ice, or add another hue 

Unto the rainbow, or with taper light, 

To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, 

Is wasteful and ridiculous excess. — Shakspeare, 

2. To them his heart, his love, his griefs were _given. 
But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. 
As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, 

Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm ; 
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, 
Eternal sunshine settles on its head. — Goldsmith. 

8. The war must go on ! We must fight it through I 

4. Be a soldier I Be a hero ! Be a man i 

138 PRACTICAL ELOarriojT. 

5. Can storied urn, or animated bust, 

Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? 
Can Honor's voice provoke the silent dust, 
Or Flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death ? 

6. If ye are beasts, then stand here like fat oxen, waiting 
for the butcher's knife ! If ye are men, — follow me ! Strike 
down yon guard, gain the mountain passes, and there do 
bloody work, as did your sires at old Thermopylae ! 

—E. Kellogg. 

7 , When can their glory fade ? 

Oh, the wild charge they made ! 

All the world wondered. 
Honor the charge they made ! 
Honor the Light Brigade, — 

Noble six hundred ! 

— Tennyson. 

8. The charge is utterly, totally and meanly false ? 

9. Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, 
and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a 
tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, 
and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge ; and 
though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, 
and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow 
all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to 
be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. 
Charity suff*ereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; 
charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave 
itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, 
thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in 
the truth ; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all 
things. Charity never faileth : but whether there be prophe- 
cies, they shall fail ; whether there be tongues, they shall 
cease ; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. 
For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when 
that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall 
be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I 
understood as a child, I thought as a child ; but when I 
became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see 
through a glass darkly, but then face to face : now I know 
in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known. 


And now abideth faith, hope, charity, — these tliree; but the 
greatest of these is charity. — Bible 


1. Oh, a wonderful stream is the river of Time, 

As it runs through the realm of tears. 
With a faultless rhythm and a musical rhyme, 
And a boundless sweep and a surge sublime, 

As it blends with the ocean of years. 

—B. F. Taylor. 

2. It took Eome three hundred years to die; and our 
death, if we perish, will be as much more terrific as our in- 
telligence and free institutions have given to us more bone 
and sinew and vitality. May God hide me from the day 
when the dying agonies of ray country shall begin ! O thou 
beloved land, bound together by the ties of brotherhood, and 
common interest, and perils, live forever — one and undi- 
vided ! — Lyman Beecher. 

3. And this man 

Is now become a god ; and Cassius is 

A wretched creature, and must bend his body, 

If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. 

He had a fever when he was in Spain, 

And, when the fit was on him, I did mark 

How he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake : 

His coward lips did from their color fly ; 

And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, 

Did lose its lustre. — Shakspeare. 

4. Are fleets and armjies necessary to a work of love and 
reconciUation ? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to 
be reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our 
love ? 

5. ^N'one dared withstand him to his face, 
But one sly maiden spake aside : 

" The little witch is evil-eyed. 
Her mother only killed a cow, 
Or witched a churn, or dairy-pan, 
But she, forsooth, must charm a man.** 


6. My feet are wearied and my hands are tired, 
My soul oppressed; 
And with desire have I long desired 
Rest — only rest. 

7. Rich in a dozen paltry villages ! Strong in a hundred 
spearmen ! but only great in that strange spell a name ! 

8. The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof; the 
Vt'orld, and they that dwell therein. 

9. I saw a man 

Deal Death unto his brother. Drop by drop 
The poison was distilled for cursed gold; 
And ill the wine cup's ruddy glow sat Death, 
Invisible to that poor trembling slave. 

— E. Evans Edwards. 

10. ORome! Rome! thou hast been a tender nurse to 
me. Ay! thou hast given to that poor, gentle, timid shep- 
herd-lad, who never knew a harsher tone than a flute-note, 
muscles of iron and a heart of flint ; taught him to drive the 
sword through plaited mail and links of rugged brass, and 
warm it in the marrow of his foe : — to gaze into the glaring 
eye-balls of the fierce Numidian lion even as a boy upon a 
laughing-girl ! 

11. Alternate the Rising and Falling Circumflex in the 
following : Did you say' no, or no ? I said no, not no. 


Gesture is posture or action, expressive of sentiment and 
emotion. While Speech is the verbal manifestation of thought 
and feeling, Gesture is the silent, but no less eloquent exposi- 
tor of the same workings of the soul. It supplements 
speech, and by its added grace, emphasis, and illustration, 
furnishes to the hearer a picture complete in all its parts. 

It is not the object to present here a series of rules upon 
which the student is expected to rely. True art never 
cables itself to mechanical forms — its inspiration and power 
emanate from the soul of the speaker. There are, however, 
certain natural laws which control all our actions, and upon 
these are based the Topics presented in the following outline : 





Conversational . 





f Purpose 

( Location. 

f Straight. 

^''^' ^ Lines. 

L Position of Hand. 

Lower Limbs. 

C Unimpassioned. 
I^hdal Expression. < 

(^ Impassioned. 


Gesture, with reference to sentiment, is divided into— 




Conversational Gestures are used in unemotional Ian- 

Tiie position should be erect, easy and natural ; the arm 
movements should usually centre at the elbow, and the 
expression of the countenance be open and cheerful. 

Oratorical Gestures delineate the earnest, the lofty, and 
the sublime. Hence, the position is not only erect, but active ; 
the arm movements are mainly from the shoulder, and the 
expression of the face is confident and animated. 

Dramatic Gestures relate to the drama and to all deeply 
impassioned language. They are the exponent of the 
passions, and require great intensity of feeling in position, 
movement, and facial expression. 

Note. — Any one of the divisions above named may be found closely combined 
with either, or both of the others, as shown in the following examples : 

So through the night rode Paul Revere ! 

And so through the night went his cry of alarm 

To every Middlesex village and farm — 

A cry of defiance, and not of fear, 

A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, 

And a word that shall echo forevermore ! 

— LongfeUow, 

Then suddenly rang a sharp, low cry ! 

Bess sank on her knees, and wildly tossed 
Eer withered arms in the summer skv — 

" 0, Willie ! Willie ! my lad I my lost I 
The Lord be praised ! after sixty years 

I see you again ! The tears you cost, 
O, Willie darlin', were bitter tears ! 

— Hamilton Aide, " Lost Q,nd Found.** 


By Position is meant the way in which a person stands in 
speaking, whether it be in the parlor, the counting-room, the 
pulpit or at the bar. It is certain that curved spine, drooped 
shoulders, protruded chin and bent knees are not only inele- 
gant, but they, to a great degree, indic9.te mental or physical 

A healthful and graceful carriage demands that the head 
be kept easily erect, the shoulders thrown sufficiently back to 
give an open chest, and that the weight of the body rest upon 
the supporting limb, the knee of the same kept firm. Care 
should also be taken that the feet be properly placed. With- 
out minute description, let it be observed that one foot be 
placed in advance of the other, the heel of the advanced foot 
pointing to the hollow of the retired one, the distance 
between them depending upon the size and build of the 
speaker. Greater freedom is thus given to the whole body 
without a loss of its equilibrium. 

Position may assume two forms — 

First, the Passive Position, in which there is absence of 
passion. This is the most common attitude of the speaker, 
and sustains to Gesture the same relation as Pure Quality 
of voice to Conversation., 

Second, the Active Position, which represents intensity of 
thought and feeling. The head is more firmly set^ the chest 
more expanded, the lower limbs are more decided and the 
Advanced and Retired Postures strongly marked, often to 
such a degree that the unsupporting limb may be thrown 
upon the toes. 

The Passive Position is in harmony with unemotional 
language whether it be ordinary conversation, didactic ex- 
pression, or plain argument. 


Examples for practice — 

1. It is better to inspire the heart with a noble sentiment 
than to teach the mind a truth of science. — Edward Brooks. 

2. The melancholy days are come, the saddest of th* 

Of wailing winds and naked woods and meadows brown 

and sere; 
Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves 

lie dead ; 
They rustle to the eddying gust and to the rabbit's 

tread ; 
The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs 

the jay, 
kxid from the wood-top calls the crow through all the 

gloomy day. — Bryant, ''Death of the Flowers." 

The Active Position may represent earnest, enthusiastic 
bold or impassioned speech, in which case the weight of the 
body is thrown upon the advanced limb. It may represent 
that which is decided, determined, resistent or independent, 
in which case the weight of the body is thrown upon the 
retired limb. 

Examples of Active — Advanced — 

1. Gray nose to gray nose, and each steady mustang, 
Stretched neck and stretched nerve till the arid earth 

rang. — Joaquin Miller, ''Kit Carson's Bide." 

2. Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forwarc' 

let us range ! 
Let the great world spin forever down the ringing 

grooves of change! 
Through the shadow of the globe we sweep into the 

younger day ; 
Bev!er fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay. 
— Tennyson, " Locksley Hall." 

3. "O comrades! warriors! Thracians! if we must fight, 
let us fight for ourselves ; if we must slaughter, let us slaugh- 
ter our oppressors ; if we must die, let us die under the open 


sky, by the bright waters, in noble, honorable battle." — Elijah 

Examples of Active — Retired — 

1. Come with bayonets in your hands instead of petitions 
— surround the White House with your legions — I am ready 
for you all ! — George Lippard, ^'Andrew Jackson^ 

2. Talk not to me 

Of odds or match ! When Comyn died, 
Three daggers clashed within his side I 
Talk not to me of sheltering hall ! 
The Church of God saw Comyn fall ! 
On God's own altar streamed his blood ; 
WTiile o'er my prostrate kinsman stood 
The ruthless murderer, even as now, — 
With armed hand and SvOrnful brow. 

— Sir Walter Scott, *' Lord of the Isles." 

3. "What! to attribute the sacred sanctions of God and 
Nature, to the massacres of the Indian scalping-knife ! to the 
cannibal savage, torturing, murdering, devouring, drinking 
the blood of his mangled victims ! Such notions shock every 
precept of morality, every feeling of humanity, every senti- 
ment of honor. These abominable principles, and this more 
abominable avowal of them, demand the most decisive in- 
dignation." — From Ckatham's Rebuke of Lord Suffolk. 

Note.— The principles above presented are not designed to cover the entire 
ground of Position. Enough has been stated to give a general idea of the sub- 
ject; other attitudes, largely under characterisation, must be left to the 
taste and judgment of the speaker. 


Movements of the Body are those of the Head, the Arm, 
and the Lower Limbs. These movements should be free, 
natural and significant. 


Tlie head movements should not only be varied in harmony 


with the sentiment, but they should also be directed to th© 
individual hearers throughout the audience. This will show 
that the words are not meant for the separate few, but are 
designed for every one in the assemblage. 

On the other hand, the speaker should carefully guard 
against too frequent change of this important member. 
Nothing is more unpleasant than a constant or habitual 
movement of the head. 

Purpose. — The movements of the arm are for the purpose 
of giving clearer meaning or greater stress to a word or an 
expression than can be given by voice only. This purpcjse 
may be shown in three ways : 

First. In the location of an object, thus bringing it more 
vividly before the mind of the auditor — hence Gestures of 

Second. To describe or show how or in what way some- 
thing appeared or was affected or imitated — hence Gestures 
of Illustration. 

Third. To give greater intensity to words by the degree 
of force culminating the movement — hence Gestures of 

Note 1. — Gestures of Location and Illustration present themselves readily In 
all kinds of language— the student must, however, guard against making more 
than are either necessary or true. 

Note 2. — Emphatic Gestures are less readily discovered, and are for this 
reason less liable to extremes in manner. The best means of ascertaining the 
place of the Emphatic Gesture is to thoroughly comprehend the meaning of 
the passage to be rendered, giving to the most vital part of it the needed gesture. 

Note 3.— By the classification just made it must not be understood that fhe 
three forms of Gesture always exist separately; they are sometimes combined— 
this is especially true of the Emphatic Gesture, which frequently blends with 
»ae of the others. 



Location — 

Far aloft in thai high steeple 
Sat the bell-man, old and gray. 

— Independence Bell, 

There the troop of Minon wheels, 

There the Northern horses thunder with the cannon at 
their heels. — Whittier: '* Angels of Buena Vista." 

Illustration — 

Straight the ancient Arrow-maker 
Looked up gravely from his labor, 
Laid aside the unfinished arrow. 
Bade him enter at the doorway; 
Saying, as he rose to meet him, 
You are welcome, Hiawatha. 

— Longfellow : ** Song of Hiawatha" 

She leans upon his neck 
To watch the flowing darkness ; 
The bank is high and steep ; 
One pause — he staggers forward, 
And plunges in the deep. 

— Adelaide Proctor: *^ Legend of BregeneJ* 

Emphasis — 

The war is inevitable ! 

I tell you, though you, though all the world, though an 
angel from Heaven should declare the truth of it, I would not 

believe it. 

Lines. — Movements of the Arm must be made in certain 
lines. According to natural laws these lines are either 
straight or curved — whether the assertion be conversational, 
oratorical or dramatic. 

Guiding Principles: Forcible, determined, abrupt and 
bold expressions require straight lines ; such as are beautiful, 


graceful, genial, grave, grand and exultant require the 

Straight — 

Down, soothless insulter ! I trust not the tale. 

— Campbell: " Lochiel's Warning." 

A lie which is all a lie, may be met and fought with outright; 
But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight. 
— Tennyson: " The Grandmother." 

Curved — 

The Mobe of nations ! there she stands, 
Childless and crownless in her voiceless woe ! 

— Byron : " Childe Harold" 

One touch to her hand and one word in her ear, 
When they reached the hall door where the charger stood 
near. — Scott : ** Lochinvar." 

It is further demonstrable by the same laws that these 
lines must take a Middle, an Ascending, or a Descending 

Such ideas as indicate ordinary events, plain statement 
and description, emotional address or reference to substance, 
real or imagined, surrounding, require a middle direction. 

Reference to substance, real or imagined, located above; 
pure, noble, lofty and exultant emotions, and all ideas 
prompted by an approving conscience naturally require an 
ascending direction. 

Reference to substance, real or imagined, located below; 
base, abject, grovelling emotions; frequently strong em- 
phatic assertions, and all ideas prompted by a disapproving 
conscience, naturallj'' take a descending direction. 

These general directions may carry the hand to the front. 


the sicTe, che back or points between, as may be shown by 
the character of the assertion. Thus it will be seen that by- 
Zen^ and direction, the movements of the arm may be varied, 
for the purpose of adding strength to uttered thought. 

While a speaker is allowed the largest liberty in manner, so 
long as he keeps within the limit of good taste, yet he w'ho is 
most natural, most artistic and most impressive, is the one who 
evinces the clearest conception of what he wishes to convey; 
and this must necessarily call out variety of motion. Gesture, 
like speech, has in a sense, its modulations, and he who 
conceives correctly will never be monotonous. 

Position of Hand. — Excepting the face, the hand con- 
stitutes the strongest silent medium of communication, 
and its interpretation almost exclusively depends upon the 
position it assumes under different phases of expression. 
Sheridan says : " Every one knows that with the hands we 
can demand or promise, call, dismiss, threaten, supplicate, 
ask, deny, show joy, sorrow, detestation, fear, confession, 
penitence, admonition, respect, and many other things now 
in common use." The positions of the hand are defined 
by the common terms of Supine, Prone, and Vertical. 

The Supine Position is extremely broad in its application. 
It may be used in ordinary, beautiful and sublime descrip- • 
tion; in address to objects animate and inanimate; in com- 
manding, entreating, welcoming, commending and kindred 
ideas, and in elucidating or intensifying a statement or 

Tlie Hand Prone usually shows superposition or the resting 
of one object, fact or principle upon another. It may also 
denote destruction to life, morally or physically, and in a 
certain sense, shows treachery or concealment. 

The Hand Vertical indicates aversion or abhorrence of an 
object which is distasteful, disgusting, or terrible; it is also 
used in surprise, and to deprecate or deplore an unavoidable 
circumstance or calamity. 



Double gestures have the Scame general meaning as the 
single ones. Their specific use is to show broader expanse of 
objects, greater breadth of thought, and more intensity of 
emotion than can be given by one hand only. 

In the preceding classification, with reference to the different positions of the 
hand, only leading terms are noted, in the belief that the student will be able 
from these to draw correct conclusions with reference to others. 



1. " No pleasure is comparable to the standing on the 
vantage-ground of truth." 

% " Be/ore him lay the unexplored future." 

3. "I give thee in thy teeth the lie ! " 

4. " Wisdom is better than riches." 

5. " WTiat is man that Thou art mindful of him ? '* 

6. " I freely grant all that you demand." 

7. " Whatever impedes his progress shall be removed." 

8. "The breeze died away as the sun sank behind the 
western hills." 

9. "A distant sail appeared on the verge of the horizon." 

10. " I see the silent Ocean of the Past, a waste of waters 
weltering over graves." 


' 1. " His talents he deposited on the altar of his country." 

2. " Forward ! Forward, let us range ! " 

3. " To freedom she leaped through drowning and death." 


4. " Our deeds determine us as much as we determine our 

5. " O delightful legacy of a spotless reputation." 

6. "They tell us to be moderate, but they— they are to 
revel in profusion." 

7. "One vast realm of wonder spreads around." 

8. " Proclaim the tidings to all people." 

9. " May my country exist to the latest day in the pleni- 
tude of liberty and happiness." 


1. " JE'/emaZ JKn^ / Author of all being." 

2. " Hope is above us beckoning us onward." 

3. " Flag of the free heart's hope and home ! " 

4. "High in the political horizon stands the name of 

5. " Fix your eye upon excellence." 

6. "A new immortal wakes — wakes with his God ! " 

7. " Higher yet, rose the majestic anthem without pauMe-"" 

8. " Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise." 

9. "Away — Oh ! away — soars the fearless and free." 


1. " Mighty one — all hail ! " 

2. " Give your children food, O Father I " 

3. " Take my spirit, All-Omnipotent to Thee." 

4. " Ye crags and peaks, I'm with you once again." 

5. " Ye golden lamps of heaven, farewell." 

6. "Spirits of freedom, awaken alll " 


7 " Joy, joy forever! my task is done ! " 

8. " Rejoice ! the land is free ! " 

9. " Shout, Earth and Heaven, the sum of good to man." 


1. "The truth of his whole statement I do most peremp- 
torily deny.'* 

2. " Down, down forty fathoms beneath the blue wave." 

3. "I will protest against such a measure." 

4. "Prejudice is often /ata?." 

5. " Full many a gem of purest ray serene, 
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear." 

6. " The first test of a truly great man is his humility." 

7. " He has become too vile for association." 

8. "Thou shalt lie down with patriarchs of the infant 

9. " Poison and plague and yelling rage have fled," 


1. "All my fortunes at thy feet I'll lay ! " 

2. " O mighty Caesar ! Dost thou lie so low ? " 

3. " Thus I devote thee to the infernal gods ! " 

4. " By the rivers of Babylon there we sat down ; yea we 
wept, when we remembered Zion." 

5. " We consign their ashes to the cold, dark tomb." 

6. " We have no concessions to make, my lord." 

7. " Nature hears the shock and hurls her fabric to the 

8. " I utterly renounce the project ! " 

9. " Of all earth's grovelling crew the most accursed I " 



1. " Peace be unto tnee." 

2. " I prohibit the signing of such a paper." 

3. " On stream and wood the moonbeams rest, like a paJo 
spotless shroud." 

4. " I charge you all, restrain such propensities." 

5. "A profound awe crept over the multitude." 

6. " Now o^er the one-half world Nature seems dead." 


1. *' May the blessings of Heaven rest upon thee." 

2. "With our hands upon the altar, we swear etert-ai 

3. " The Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast." 

4. " One dead silence reigned over the spot." 

5. " Deep stillness fell on all around." 

6. " Spvead the glad tidings from shore to shore." 


1. " We crown her the land of a hundred years I" 

2. " Justice cries : Forbear ! " 

3. " High o^er us soared Great Lookout." 

4. *•' They little knew the danger impending o'er their city.*' 

5. " Like a glory the broad sun 

Hangs over sainted Lebanon." 

^ "A midnight gloom reigned over the farthest height." 


- 1, ** Bless the Lord, my soul 1" 


2. " Sink, O Night, among the mountaini." 

5. " "Wings ^bove life to soar, 

And beyond death forevermore." 

4. " Hung be the heavens with black." 

6. " It shall open tdde its portals, 

The city of the free." 

6. " He saw above a ruined world the Bow of Promise rise/ 


1. " Pray you, tread softly." 

'2. "I cannot repress my indignation." 

3. •* Her keel hath struck on a hidden rock." 

4. " Blighted are all his prospects/' 

5. " Thou art too base for man to tread upon." 

6. "Angel, roll the rock away." 

7. " Fear shrinks trembling into the deepest shadows.*' 


1. " Lie lightly on him earth." 

2. " Sons of dust, in reverence botu." 

3. " The idols are broke in the temple of Baal." 

4. " We are in Thy sight, worms of the dust.''* 

5. " Ignorance dissolves before the light of knowledge.** 

6. " Open fly the infernal gates !" 


1, " Back to thy punishment, false fugitive." 

2. " The thought is truly repugnant.** 

8. " His arm warded off the blow." 



4. " He evaded all questions." 

5. " Go, get thee from me, Cromwell V* 

6. " False wizard, avaunt !" 

7. " Get thee back, Sorrow, get thee back." 


1. " Advanced in view they stand, a horrid fronV* 

2. " With united hearts let us drive hack the invaders.*' 

3. "Their separation was final.'* » 

4. " Let them remain, disunited forever." 

5. " Avaunt, and quit my sight !" 

6. " The land was rent with civil strife.'* 


1. ""While we bow before thee, turn away thine anger.** 

2. "Oh,/orMc;? it, Heaven!" 

3- " 3Iay the impending ruin be averted I'* 

4. " Cossack and Russian, 

Reeled from the sabre-stroke. 
Shattered and sundered." 

5. " Away, delusive phantom !" 

6. " Unreal mockery, hence /" 


1. "Avert, God, the terrible calamity.*' 

2. " Hide your faces, holy angels I'* 

3. "0 horror I horror! horror!" 

4. " Angels and Ministers of Grace, defend us.*' 

5. " Burst are toe orison bars." 


6. "CelestiallicrTit 

Dispels the gloomy shades of iiight." 

Note. — While the hand through the motions of the arm, reaches certain 
points, and assumes certain positions, such as have been named and exempli- 
fied, the student must not conclude that these comprise all the positions and 
movements of the hand. "While those classed are most frequently used, there 
are many others which as justly belong to the speaker's range of expression. 
A few of the more prominent of these are presented in the following 



" Sush I Hush I Thou, vain dreamer, this hour is her last.^ 


" Flag of Freedom and Union wave" 
" lo ! They come, they come I" 


" Blessed mother, save my train." 


" Right ? Who says right ? " 

" My conscience says right, and that is enough." 


** Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining." 

** Let my heart he sfz7Z a moment and this mystery explore." 


Oh, for Heaven^ s sake, spare me 1 " 
" O Tliou Christ of God forgive t" 



"O pardon me, thou piece of bleeding earth." 


" I defy him I let him come ! " 


*' Tlljight till from my bones my flesh be hacked I *' 


" She prayed, her withered hand uprearing, 
God, who art never out of hearing, 
O, may he never more be warm." 


*' Still the infinite heavens rang with the JSoly, Holy ever" 
more /" 


" That hand was cold, a frozen thing, 
It dropped from his like lead." 


" By torch and trumpet fast arrayed 
Each warrior drew his battle blade.'* 


" He in his robe of virtue wraps himself, 
And smiles at Fate's caprice." 


In addition to the general use of the lower limbs, as ex- 
plained under Position, strongly dramatic passages call foi 


corresponding movements. These are suggested by the fol- 
]o^Ying Guiding Principles. The lower limbs bend in timid- 
ity, advance in courage or progression, retire in fear or cau- 
tion, stamp in rage, and start in terror. 


A proper use of the index finger not only gives variety to 
gesture, but it enforces an assertion most effectively, espe- 
cially when used to distinguish one from a collection, a part 
from the whole, or to threaten, warn, or deride. 


1. " Yonder stands the cottage in which I was born." 

2. "You shall die, base dog, and that before yon cloud has 
passed over the sun." 

3. "ioo^ to your hearths my lords." 

4. Nathan said unto David, " Thou art the man." 

5. " Lay not your hand upon my hoy" 


Tlie face is the mirror of the emotions ; hence it should be 
taught to reflect promptly all changes of sentiment and feel- 
ing. A voice may be perfect in its modulations; it may set 
itself most harmoniously to all forms of uttered language, 
yet if the soul of the speaker does not bear record, by index- 
ing itself upon the countenance, the aim attempted is, to a 


very great degree, marred. Quintilian says, " Tlie face is the 
dominant power of expression. With this we supplicate; 
with this we threaten ; wdth this we soothe ; with this we 
mourn ; with this we rejoice ; with this w^e triumph ; with 
this we make our submissions ; upon this the audience hang ; 
upon this they keep their eyes fixed ; this they examine and 
study even before a word is spoken." 

Facial expression may be divided into Unimpassioned and 
Impassioned. The former belongs to that which is reposeful 
or tranquil, to ordinary conversation, plain narration and 
description, and unimpassioned argument. The latter is 
used in all kinds of emotional language. It is not the 
design in this limited treatment to present the countenance 
under all the varieties of thought and feeling. Some guid- 
ing principles are offered, together with examples for prac- 


1. A smiling countenance indicates courtesy, joy, good 
humor and happiness. 

2. The brows contract, the eyes burn, and the lips com- 
press in anger and defiance. 

3. The nose and upper lip are elevated in scorn ; and the 
brows are raised, the eyes opened, and the lips parted in 
secresy, surprise and fear. 

4. The face is dejected and softened in sorrow, averted in 
shame, and raised in supplication. 



1. Every evil that we conquer is a benefit to our souls. 
The Sandwich Islander believes that the strength and valor 
of the enemy he kills, passes into himself. Spiritually, it is so 


with us, for we gain strength from every temptation we 
resist. It is absurd to think of becoming good in any- 
thing without understanding and practicing what we learn. 

2. Til ere is no crown in the world 
So good as patience ; neither is any peace 
That God puts in our lips to drink as wine, 
More honey-pure, more worthy love's own praise, 
Than that sweet-soul ed endurance which makes clean 
The iron hands of anger. 

— Swinburne : " The Queen Mother." 

3. Why weep ye, then, for him who, having won 

The bound of man's appointed years at last, 
Life's blessings all enjoyed, life's labors done, 

Serenely to his final rest has passed, 
While the soft memory of his virtues yet 
Lingers like twilight hues, when the bright sun is set. 
— Bryant : from " Death of the Good Man." 


" Father, Thy hand 
Hath rear'd these venerable columns ; Thou 
Dids't weave this verdant roof. Thoa dids't look down 
Upon the naked earth, and forthwith rose 
All these fair ranks of trees." 

— Bryant : from " Forest Hymn." 


" Ah, lady, now I know full well 
What 'tis to be an orphan boy." — Mrs, Opie. 


" Ring out the old, ring in the new, 
Ring, happy bells, across the snow : 
The year is going, let him go ; 
Ring out the false, ring in the true." 

— Tennyson : " In Memoriam.*' 


" Hush ! Hark ! Did stealing steps go by. 
Came not faint whispers near ?" 


*'Get thee back into the tempest, 
And the night's Plutonian shore I" 

" And dar'st thou, then, go beard the lion in his den, 
The Douglass in his hall ? 
And hop'st thou hence unscathed to go ? 
No ! by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no V— Scott: "Marmion.'* 


" Thy threats, thy mercies I defy, 
And give thee in the teeth the lie." 


" Forever and forever, all in a blessed home, 
And there to wait a little while, till you and Effie come, 
To lie within the light of God, as I lie upon your breast ; 
And the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at 
rest." — Tennyson: ^^ May Queen." 

* Backward, roll backward, time in your flight, 
Make me a child again, just for to-night." 

"01 have lost you all, 
Parents and home and friends." 


" Gone to be married ! Gone to swear a peace ! 
False blood to false blood joined ! Gone to be friends ! 
Shall Lewis have Blanche, and Blanche these provinces ?" 

— hhaksjpear(\. 


*'Stay there, or I'll proclaim you to the house and the whole 
ptreet ! If you try to evade me, I'll stop you, if it's by the 
hair, and raise the very stones against you." — Dickens. 


•' To bed, to bed ! There's knocking at the gate I" 


" But one sly maiden spake aside— 

The little witch is evil eyed : 

Her mother only killed a cow, 

Or witched a churn or dairy pan : 

But she, forsooth, must charm a man I" 

— Whittier : " Mabel Martin." 

" Mark ye the flashing oars, 
And the spears that light the deep ? 
How the festal sunshine pours 
"Where the lords of battle sweep ! 
Each hath brought back his shield ; 
Maid, greet thy lover home ! 
Mother, from that proud field, 
lol thy son is come." 


"Ha! ha! ha! Wall, I believe I do bear my part with 
a tolerable grace." 


" Give me three grains of com, mother, 
Only three grains of corn ; 
'Twill keep the little life T have. 
Till the coming of the morn." 


^She love I Tliat carrion I And he ever cared for her, she'd 


tell me I Ha ! ha I The liars that these traders are."— 


" Alack 1 I am afraid they have awaked, 
And 'tis not done : the attempt, and not the deed, 
Confounds us ! Hark I I laid their daggers ready ; 
He could not miss them." — Shakspeare: "Macbeth,'* 

" And Csesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, 
With At^ by his side, come hot from hell, 
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice, 
Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of war !" 

— Shakspeare: "Julius Csesar*^ 


" Go ring the bells and fire the guns, 
And fling the starry banners out; 
Shout * Freedom !' till your lisping ones 
Give back their cradle-shout." 

— Whittier, 


Oh, the gorgeous city. 

Shining far away ! 

Neither misery nor crime, 

Nor the wrongs of ancient time, 

Nor the kingly lust of sway 

Ever come within its wall 

To degrade — or to enthrall — 

Oh, the glorious city, so beautiful to see,— 

But ^mce and love and kTwwledge 

The civilizing three. 

Still prove by good that has been 

The better that may be. 

—Mackay: " The Golden City,*' 


2. Kg fearini^, no doubting thy soldier shall know, 

When here stands his country, and yonder his foe; 

One look on the bright sun, one prayer to sky, 

One glance where our banner waves glorious on high ; 

Then on, as the young lion bounds to his prey ; 

Let the sword flash on high, fling the scabbard away ; 

Roll on, like the thunderbolt over the plain ; 

We come back in glory or we come not again ! 

3. For all the kindreds and tribes and tongues of men, — 
each upon their own meridian, — from the Arctic pole to the 
equator, from the equator to the Antarctic pole, the eternal 
sun strikes twelve at noon, and the glorious constellations, far 
up in the everlasting belfries of the skies, chime twelve at 
midnight — twelve for the pale student over his flickering 
lamp — twelve amid the flaming wonders of Orion's -belt, if he 
crosses the meridian at that fated hour — twelve by the weary 
couch of languishing humanity, twelve in the star paved 
courts of the Empyrean — twelve for the heaving tides of the 
ocean; twelve for the weary arm of labor, twelve for the 
toiling brain, twelve for the watching, waking, broken heart ; 
twelve for the meteor which blazes for a moment and 
expires ; twelve for the comet whose period is measured by 
centuries : twelve for every substantial, for every imaginary 
thing, which exists in the sense the intellect, or the fancy, 
and which the speech or thought of man, at the given meri- 
dian, refers to the lapse of time. 

— Everett :"' Eternal Clockwork of the Skies." 

Oh, with what pride I used 

To walk these hills, and look up to my God, 

And bless him that the land was free ! 'T was free- 

From end to end, from cliff" to lake, 'twas freel 

Free as our torrents are that leap our rocks. 

And plow our valleys, without asking leave I 

Or as our peaks, that wear their caps of snow 

In very presence of the regal sun I 

How happy was it then ? I loved 

Its very storms. Yes, I have sat 

In my boat at night, when, midway o'er the lake, 

The stars wtnt out, and down the mountain gorge 

The wind came roaring. I have sat and eyed 

The thunder breaking from his cloud, and smiled 


To see him shake his lightnings o'er my head, 
And think I had no master save his own I 

On yonder jutting cliff, o'ertaken there 

By the mountain blast, I 've laid me flat along, 

And while gust followed gusc more furiously, 

As if to sweep me o'er the horrid brink, 

And I have thought of other lands, whose storms 

Are summer-flaws to those of mine, and just 

Have wished me there — the thought that mine was free 

Has checked that wish, and I have raised my head 

And cried in thraldom to that furious wind, 

Blow on ! — this is the land of liberty I — Knowles. 

5. Oh ! listen, man ! 

A voice within us speaks that startling word, 

" Man, thou shalt never die ! " celestial voices 

Hymn it unto our souls : according harps 

By angel fingers touched, when the mild stars 

Of morning sang together, sound forth still 

The song of our great immortality ; 

Thick clustering orbs, and this our fair domain, 

The tall, dark mountains, and the deep-toned seas, 

Join in the solemn, universal song. 

Oh ! listen ye, our spirits : drink it in 

From all the air. 'Tis in the gentle moonlight; 

'Tis floating midst Day's setting glories 1 Night, 

Wrapped in her sable robe, with silent step 

Comes to our bed, and breathes it in our ears : 

Night, and the dawn, bright day, and thoughtful eve, 

All time, all bounds, the limitless expanse, 

As one vast mystic instrument, are touched 

By an unseen, living Hand : and conscious chords 

Quiver with joy in this great jubilee. 

Dana : Immortality. 

6. "V^Hiile the union lasts we have high, exciting, gratifying 
prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. 
Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant 
that in my day, at least, that curtain may not rise. God 
grant that on my vision never may be opened what lies be- 
hind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last 
time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the 
broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious union ; 
on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent 


with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood 1 
Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather, behold the 
gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known and honored 
throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and 
trophies streaming in their original luster, not a stripe erased 
or polluted, nor a single star obscured, bearing for its motto 
no such miserable interrogatory as — AAHiat is all this worth? 
Nor those other words of delusion and folly — Liberty first 
and union afterward; but everywhere spread all over in 
characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they 
float over the sea and over the land, in- every wind under the 
whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true 
American heart — Liberty and union, now and forever, one 
and inseparable ! — Webster : Liberty and Union. 


Haifa league, half a league, 

Half a league onward, 
All in the valley of death 

Eode the six hundred. 
*' Forward, the Light Brigade ! 
Charge for the guns ! " he said : 
Into the valley of Death 

Kode the six hundred. 

"Forward, the Light Brigade !" 
Was there a man dismayed? 
Not though the soldiers knew 

Some one had blundered I 
Theirs not to make reply ; 
Theirs not to reason why; 
Theirs but to do and die : 
Into the valley of Death 

Bode the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon in front of them 

Volleyed and thundered : 
Stormed at with shot and shell, 
Bi)ldly they rode and well; 
Into the jaws of Death, 
Into the mouth of Hell, 

Bode the six hundred. 


Flashed all their sabers bare, 
Flashed as they turned in air, 
Sab 'ring the gunners there, 
Charging an army, while 

All the world wondered ! 
Plunged in the battery smoke, 
Eight through the line they broke : 
Cossack and Russian 
Reeled from the saber-stroke, 

Shattered and sundered. 
Then they rode back ; but not — 

Not the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon behind them 

Volleyed and thundered : 
Stormed at with shot and shell, 
While horse and hero fell, 
They that had fought so well 
Came through the jaws of Death, 
Back from the mouth of Hell, 
All that was left of them — 

Left of six hundred. 

When can their glory fade ? 
O the wild charge they made ! 

All the world wondered. 
Honor the charge they made I 
Honor the Light Brigade, — 

Noble six hundred ! — Tennyson, 

" 0, where is the knight or the squire so bold 
As to dive to the howling charybdis below ? — 
I cast in the whirlpool a goblet of gold, 
And o'er it already the dark waters flow ; 
Whoever to me may the goblet bring 
Shall have for his guerdon that gift of his king." 

He spake, and the cup from the terrible steep 
That, rugged and hoary, hung over the verge 
Of the endless and measureless world of the deep. 
Swirled into the maelstrom that maddened the surge. 
* And where is the diver so stout to go — 
I ask ye again— to the deep below ?" 


And the knights and the squires that gathered around, 
Stood silent, and lixed on the ocean their eyes ; 
They looked on the dismal and savage profound, 
And the peril chilled back every thought of the prize. 
And thrice spake the monarch, — "The cup to win. 
Is there never a wight who will venture in ?" 

And all as before heard in silence the king, 
Till a 3'outh with an aspect unfearing, but gentle, 
'Mid the tremulous squires, stepped out from the ring. 
Unbuckling his girdle, and doffing his mantle; 
And the murmuring crowd as they parted asunder, 
On the stately boy cast their looks of wonder. 

As he strode to the marge of the summit, and gave 
One glance on the gulf of that merciless main. 

The youth gave his trust to his Maker ! Before 

That path through the riven abyss closed again — 

Hark ! a shriek from the crowd rang aloft from the shore. 

And, behold! he is wdiirled in the grasp of the main ! 

And o'er him the breakers mysteriously rolled, 

And the giant mouth closed o'er the swimmer bold, 

■—Schiiler : " The Diver," 


In Transition, or in passing from one gesture to another, 
the hand should not be dropped at the side, but allowed to 
pass by graceful movement from one point to the other. 

When Climax is required, strengthen each word, phrase, or 
assertion, over the preceding one, by a stronger gesture, and 
In a manner and direction as may be indicated by the 
character of the discourse. 

Study nature for attitude and action as well as for speech. 
OThe most noted readers and speakers often furnish worthy 
examples. Benefit in this regard may also be derived from 
observation of characters in sculpture and painting. 


Study Repose of manner: there is repose of action as well 
as of inaction ; it is the sign of mastery. It is the most 
unfailing test of beauty whether of matter or of motion. 


1. Avoid false gestures. 

2. Avoid crude and ungraceful gestures, except in the oc- 
casional sentiment which may require it. 

3. Do not use the whole body when the action of only 
one of its members is required. 

4. Avoid meaningless gestures ; let every movement have 
a purpose. 

5. Avoid excess in gesture; too few are better than 
too many. 

6. Never shock the sensibilities of an audience by too 
coarse an imitation. 

The objects to be attained in Gesture, are ease and appro- 
priateness of manner. These objects are usually only at- 
tained through time and patient toil. The student should 
thoroughly comprehend the Principles, so that in the ap- 
plication of the same he may be entirely unconscious of 
their existence. Unconsciousness will lead to ease, correct- 
ness and variety of movement ; it will also be found that aa 
the soul is stirred by thought and feeling from within, or by 
circumstances from without. Gesture will differ at different 
times upon the same assertions, and yet at each time be 
equally appropriate or correct. 

In the adaptation of Gesture to Speech the student should 
study to establish the most perfect harmony — otherwise the 
effect is to a great degree lost, and at no time should he lose 
sight of the fact that the former is a helper rather than an 
exponent of the latter. 



In addition to the author's experience of twenty years as an instructor, during 
■which period he has enjoyed the advantage of rare and varied opportunities for 
appreciating the wants of the teacher, it has been his privilege to meat thou- 
sands of teachers in professional relations. These contacts, and the observations 
they have afforded, have led to much thought and to a profound appreciation of 
the teacher's needs in the direction of his special department. 

Next to the desire of a broad and intelligent comprehension of the subject, 
which he has made a lifelong study, he entertains no stronger desire than that 
he may stimulate and help the teacher in his work. No other instruction 
within the province of our educational system possesses an equal degree of 
practical importance with that of natural, chaste" and effectivo speech. It 
relates to the whole man, physical, mental and moral. It relates to every 
man of the whole race. It relates to every grade and occupation. It relates to 
the every-day life of every man of every grade and every occupation. 

To treat the subject of Methods worthily, would require a volume. In the 
absence of time and space to give it such consideration as it deserves, there has 
been th^temptation to ignore it altogether. It is to be hoped thit we have deter, 
mined more wisely in offering what is now before the student under the two 
general divisions, Theory of Teaching and Outline of Methods. 


The first thought of a wise master builder for those who 
go down to the sea in ships, is safety of passage. One motive 
governs all other considerations: she shall reach her desti» 
nation and deliver safely all that has been committed to her. 

Note.— The Theory of Teaching here presented is from the author's papftr 
read before the Pennsylvania State Teacliers' Association with only such 
change as has been deemed necessary to its adaptation here, aud to the demand 
for a more comprehensive treatment. 


Thongh her sails be of fine linen and her timber of the 
goodly cedar, and she be laden with the gold of Ophir or 
with the most precious stones, if her timbers yield to the biL 
lows, and her wealth be lost in the deep, all is lost, and her 
greatness remains only in the greatness of that loss. The 
magnificence of her stores only adds to the fearful responsi- 
bility of him who sent her upon the waves thus unworthy. 

While the educator is rearing the structure of the mind 
and freighting it with merchandise, he should remember 
that his work does not culminate with a sublime structure 
and an abundant cargo. It lies beyond that. He is not 
great whose mind is merely a great receptacle, though it be 
filled to the brim. That is the vessel of honor w^hich bears 
successfully from port to port all that has been committed 
to it, and he has built well who has meted out such strength 
and pace. He is the educated man, who, freighted with 
wise and noble thoughts, beqjs them successfull}^ to their 
proper destination. It is the application of knowledge, not 
the possession of it, which constitutes the true end of educa- 
tion. The end of life is in giving, not in receiving. A man 
is estimated not for what the world eives to him, but for what 
he gives to the ^vorld. Our subject has to do with one great 
medium for the application of knowledge. Very much of 
our education, to be available, must be handled, exchanged, 
conveyed to its proper port. Like the vessel and its mer- 
chandise, it is valuable only at its destination. Along with 
knowledge, therefore, and in proportion to it, comes the de- 
mand for its proper conveyance and application. 

We are by no means disposed to ignore the fact that much 
has been achieved by the silent use of knowledge. Some of 
the richest fruits of philosophy, science and the arts, have 
been given to the world by men and women the most reti- 
cent and non-communicative. Through philosophy, inven- 
tion alone has given untold stimulus to civilization and 
religion, and advanced the world a thousand years. Science 
vies with Eevelation in proclaiming the wonderful works of 
God. The arts are quietly lifting the race into a higher 


range of thought and feeling. They are hand-mnid!^ i,{ phi' 
lanihropy and civilization, breathing "peace on e.^rtn and 
good will to men." But it has been reserved ror tne human 
voice to mould and modify every phase and vicissitude of 
human life. Whether science or art, the family or the 
nation, the Church or State, politics or theology, philosophy 
or religion, its influence is felt in all. The human voice is 
the great medium for the conveyance of thought and feeling, 
the outlet and passage-way of the soul, the divine current 
which allies man to his fellow. It is the medium by which 
knowledge is made universal ; a canvas upon w^hich we may 
throw thought and feeling that others maj'' see and read. 
Soul is here brought to the surface, made tangible and 

But to do this there is needed an instrument, skilled, 
accomplished, disciplined. It must not be supposed that the 
Creator has here made exception to the common law of 
development. Here, as in every other element of our being, 
it is " first the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the 
ear." It is the common order : germ, form, fruit. And the 
common process : culture, protection, exercise. 

In the treatment of the subject, we shall consider the im- 
portance of vocal culture from the teacher's standpoint ; cer- 
tain common, existing faults of instruction ; and such simple 
methods as may be presented without illustration. 

1. Importance. — The importance of a high cultivation of 
the voice is abundantly apparent to us. But it is not enough 
that a teacher be himself informed upon his subject; he 
must be able to inform others. It is not enough that he be 
full himself; he must fill others. How shall we present the 
practical bearings of this subject upon our scholars, so that 
they may be stimulated to their share of the work ? Stand* 
ing, therefore, in the teacher's stead for a few minutes, let us 
consider the relations of this subject to a generation now in 
our hands as clay in the hands of the potter. 

Education in any department is important in proportion 
as it gives a healthy development of strength and influence. 


Whether considered with reference to self or the race, the 
voice has the highest claims upon our attention. As a 
physif'-al faculty, the exercise of the human voice concerns 
self. A correct, easy utterance demands a natural position 
of the body. Proper position conduces to symmetry of 
form, which means a healthy development of all the physical 
powers. It is a protection to the throat, giving to it muscu- 
lar strength and vigor. It promotes proper habits of breath- 
ing, and calls into play many of the most vital organs of the 
human body. Properly directed, it becomes a most practical 
source of health and grace to the whole being. 

Natural and healthful exercise is a condition of growth 
and development as absolute as air or food. It applies to 
our whole triune nature. I gain strength for to-morrow by 
what I have done to-day. The mind expands by its exer- 
tions. The heart that cherishes the affections of to-day, 
burns with a brighter and warmer benevolence to-morrow. 
The physical power, therefore, which calls into action the 
greatest aggregate amount of physical force, demands in 
proportion our attention and proper direction. We need 
only call to mind that the throat and lungs, the organs of 
respiration, the air we breathe and the manner of breathing 
it, the proper adjustment of all the parts of the body, posi- 
tion, dress, and digestion itself, are so related to a proper 
exercise of the voice as to receive the utmost advantage 
from it. 

Next to its uses for the sake of self, comes its bearing upon 
the family, and those most nearly allied to us, constituting 
what is known as t'le 5ocza/ Circfe. Here begins the media- 
torial office of the voice. It becomes here the current of 
revelation from the within to the without; and its power 
over the thoughts and affections which it bears from us, 
though not susceptible of measurement, must be regarded of 
vast importance. By it, human weakness may be brought to 
the surface, and set as a target for the finger of ridicule; or 
it may be covered and hidden from view. Culture of mind 
and the purest affection which the heait can give forth, may 


come to the surface, coarse and almost vulgar; or fresh, vig» 
orous and pure as the fountain whence they issue. 

The voice may be taught to reflect upon every relation of 
life. The business man lays his voice by the side of his wares, 
and the eye of the purchaser harmonizes with the ear in its 
iudgment. The ear hears a sound harsh and uncomely ; the 
eye pronounces the cloth coarse and wanting in polish. The 
ear hears a voice apologetic and shrinking ; the eye pro- 
nounces the coffee of questionable quality, and the sugar 
adulterated. The ear hears a voice, firm, pure and confi- 
dent ; the eye sees a fabric of unusual firmness and dura- 
bility. We do not pronounce this principle of absolute 
force, but of such general bearing as to give it the highest 

The public man presents himself first to the eye and the 
ear of his audience. His words approach the judgment with 
recommendations from these senses, favorable or unfavorable. 
If favorable, he sustains to the audience the position of a 
stranger who approaches you with a strong letter from your 
friend. You are thrown on his side, and prefer to help him 
if you can. So the judgment of the audience is thrown in 
the speaker's favor; it prefers to accept his words. If unfa- 
vorable, he sustains the relation of him whose approach to 
you has been preceded by unfair reflections upon his char- 
acter. He finds a barrier in the way of his access to you. 
The voice is in many instances a barrier in the way of a 
speaker's access to the mind and heart,weakening and modi- 
f3dng the words, sometimes to such a degree that they are 
utterly lost. The voice is often so at variance with the senti- 
ment, as to convey a meaning almost in contrast with the 
purpose of the speaker. But we dare not dwell. It may be 
readily shown in all relations. First, that the voice should 
satisfy, and, if it be possible, gratify the ear. Second, that it 
should sustain and strengthen the sentiment. Third, that it 
should vary in harmony with the sentiment. 

The culture of the voice should be taught as a matter of 
cleanliness. A sluggish, slovenly tone is as filthy as an un- 
combed head, or a collar ten days worn. It should be taught 


as a matter of courtesy. You owe it to your neighbor to give 
him a pure tone as much as the tip of the hat or the morn- 
ing sahitation. It should be taught as an element of happi- 
ness. Our highest happiness is reflex. It is that which 
;omes back to us from the joy we have given to others. No 
other agency within the compass of our natural power is so 
adapted to the communication of happiness to others as the 
human voice. It should be taught as an agency of moral 
culture. A voice of dignity and elegance will attract to purity 
and truth, to virtue and religion. Correct sounds should be 
taught as a preservation of the language. Sounds errone- 
ously pronounced during school dayj will so develop the 
organs in that direction as to be corrected with difficulty. 
The habit will often prejudice the ear against that w^hich is 

Faults. — In considering the faults most common in our 
education of the voice, I call attention first to the wide- 
spread habit of forcing loud and boisterous tones, rather 
than intelligent responses. There is a tendency on the part 
of teachers to obtain sound without much reference to sense. 
Very often, too, it is obtained at the expense of every natu- 
ral use of the organs, rendering the voice harsh and discord- 
ant, and physically weakened. It has its worst phase in the 
harsh, fierce utterance of the letters of the alphabet, and in 
spelling and early reading lessons. The child should be 
taught to give the name of the first letter of the alphabet, 
and every letter intelligently, as it would to give the name of 
any one object in the room, whole, complete, with firm, pure, 
voice, and nothing more. A greater fault consists in the 
almost total want of attention to the voices of pupils outside 
of the few minutes devoted to the reading classes proper. 
Though the pupil may be in only one reading class, every 
class should be a voice class in which the voice is used. It ia 
Worse than absurd to expect any satisfactory results in the 
culture of the voice while it is used properly in one recitation 
and improperly in five. If there is anything in practice, then 
thefauUs of the voice must have greatly the advantage. 

Again, the body of sound is rarely correct. The a, e, ^, o, u, 


Df speech is neglected. The organs are not properly set, and 
i\ consequence there is not obtained that resonance and flexi- 
f'lnty of which almost every voice is capable. Head tones, 
mouth tones, and throat tones are left uncorrected, and TNith 
every repetition, are more strongly fixed in the habit of the 

Then, there is great neglect of the true source of vocal 
strength. Few students in our public schools ever learn to 
command tlie lower part of the lungs and the abdominal 
muscles during utterance, and in consequence always use the 
voice to disadvantage. The lower muscles of the body con- 
stitute the fulcrum poiuer of the voice, and to speak without 
using them is like lifting a heavy weight from an unnatural 
position. Strength is wasted. Thousands are constantly 
exhausting physical force in speech which might be saved if 
the proper organs were brought into play. Had we time we 
could adduce a number of instances of persons whose speech 
had become painful and burdensome, who so changed the 
location of the tone ia a few days' time as to speak w4th 
entire ease. 

In Articulation there is almost a universal tendency to a 
sluggish and unfinished utterance of the sounds in a word. 
Tills fault has various forms, sometimes pervading the whole 
eentence, sometimes affecting only those words in which the 
lips or teeth have a prominent part to perform, and very 
often dropping the last sound of the word. A distinct 
enunciation reflects culture and education upon the speaker 
and shows such a respect for his words, on his own part, as 
will command the respect of the listener. Many of the 
sounds of the language are commonly pronounced incor- 
rectly. Almost every community has perverted some of the 
sounds to such a degree that they have entered into the 
common language of the community and become provincial. 
The teacher is the guardian of the tongue he speaks, and 
should conscientiously protect it from innovation upon the 
authorized sounds w^hich compose the language. 

The faults of Expression in the average American are 


indeed " too numerous to mention." There is monotony of 
expression, and excess of expression. There is the formal, 
stilted, uniform rate, and the loose, reckless, hasty speech. 
There is the pious style of drawl and downward slide, and 
there is ths coarse, abrupt and dogged style. Against all of 
these we may reverently use the language of the prayer- 
book, and ask to be delivered. 

A healthy child will usually be found to possess, in a very 
high degree, the elements of varied and appropriate ex- 
pression. It will use the high and the low, the loud and the 
soft, the fast and the slow, with wonderful faithfulness to the 
meaning and would very often require little but protection, 
but too often the example of the playmate and the parent 
and the misdirection of the teacher are sufficient, within very 
early years, to supplant natural simplicity of expression and 
establish in its place painfully unnatural habits. 

In Gesture, the faults of 'position and movement, like those of 
expression, are usually acquired through example and mis- 
direction. The child of six, compelled to sit on a square 
foot of territory six hours in the day, will break down under 
the unnatural oppression and the form will droop. The boy 
that is required to " stand erect " only on Friday afternoon, 
when he " speaks his piece," will absorb the idea of a 
mechanical uprightness for the speaking occasion, and that 
some such preparation is necessary every time he makes his 
speech ; and we accordingly find in the pulpit and at the bar 
more uprightness than grace. The healthy little child, as a 
rule, is graceful and appropriate in its movements. The 
larger child has rounded shoulders and drags his feet a little. 
The largest child droops in body, walks with bowed legs and 
carries his head at an unnatural poise, and the man and 
woman are the natural result of the years of such training. 

3. Remedy. — The remedy for many of the faults so common 
in speech lies within the reach of almost every teacher. No 
instrument was ever committed to human care and manage- 
ment, capable of such delicate variety and harmony as the 
voice of the average child. Pure as the morning breeze, 


sporting as the winged songster, versatile as the mountaic 
stream, is the prattle of happy childhood. Nature has 
shown herself more lavish in the instrument of communica- 
tion than in the knowledge to be communicated. The God- 
given voice is greatly superior to the God-given knowledge. . 
The natural suggestion is, that the culture of the voice should 
be assigned its proper place in the van of all higher culture. 
The fact is, they are educated inversely. Processes of devel- 
opment are applied to the mind tending to natural and vig- 
orous growth. A lifetime is devoted to storing in knowledge, 
while the great channel of communication is almost entirely 
neglected. The voice is left to itself; and, in one, is dwarfed 
for want of the necessary attention and nourishment; in 
another, for want of proper pruning and direction, is allowed 
to run into the most unnatural vagaries. 

We submit, there should be early attention given to the 
habits of voice in the child. The voice in recitation should 
not be diverted from the simplest and purest tones of ita 
ordinary use. When false tendencies are discovered, they 
should be promptly corrected, whether on the play-ground, 
in the morning salutation, or in the grammar recitation, as 
well as in the reading class. The current of tone should be 
kept in the proper channel, and the stimulants of cleanliness, 
courtesy, business and morality, to which reference has 
already been made, applied in due proportion and with due 
caution. A faculty of such constant exercise, it is eminently 
important that the most careful attention be given to the 
habit of voice in the practice of the child. 

I am told that so little attention has been given to this 
subject in the education of the teacher, that he is unprepared 
to criticise the voice of the pupil. 

While admitting the force of the difficulty, yet were he 
ordinarily to apply the principle of correcting bad habits as 
far as he knows, we believe great good would be done, and 
he would be led to the discovery of much that is unknown. 

In addition to this direction and correction of the voice, 
pleasing and varied exercises should be mingled with the 


rea^ling exercises, such as the ear will enjoy. The ear should 
be led as rapidly as possible to enjoy sounds. It will thus 
soon discriminate between what it likes and what it dislikes, 
and this accomplished, the point of a higher and closer dis- 
crimination is not far distant. The teacher should aim to 
secure in the pupil the criticism of his own ear. A most 
important work is done when this is attained. Every indica- 
tion in this direction should be encouraged by the teacher. 
When the flat, high, hard, harsh or excessive nasal tones are 
observed by the pupil, and hurt as they fall upon the ear, the 
teacher's work is largely done. The student is then put under 
a critic more faithful and constant than the teacher can pos- 
sibly be to him. 

Nothing can take the place of judicious exercise of the 
elementary sounds in early practice. The drill on these, 
carefully varied, should form a daily exercise in our primary 
schools. The greatest care should be taken in all these ex- 
ercises to develop chest tones, versus head, throat, or mouth 
tones. I shall suggest a single additional element in the cul- 
ture of the voice. The teacher cannot impress the value of 
proper breathing with too much emphasis. Deep, full breath- 
ing should be urged as a habit, not merely as an exercise. 
Every muscle and organ within the whole range of the re- 
spiratory system should act with each successive breath. 
The intercostal muscles are very largely dependent upon 
breathing for their exercise. By it, the lungs are rendered 
capacious and flexible, the muscles of the sides and back are 
strengthened, the whole body has added form and comeli- 
ness, and the voice obtains a strength and resonance which 
it can have from no other source. 

A new era is dawning in the history of education with 
reference to human speech. In our haste after principles 
we have overlooked the fact, that culture as well as know- 
ledge must supplement nature. In the palmy days of oratory, 
and in the age of its masters, the culture of the voice was 
held of first importance. We believe that within the possi- 
bilities of this wonderful instrument, there may be found a 



response to every sentiment of the mind and every emotion 
of the heart. And it is not an idle hope that in proportion 
as the mind of man expands to a wider range, and the 
human heart glows in a higher benevolence, and human 
nature is absolved from sin, the voice may be first to reflect 
the Divine image, in tones such as make up the melody of 


' Idea. 

WOED. - 

Primary Instruction. - 



( Idea word, 
[other word*. 

SXTGGESTION TO THK TXacher.— While it is believed that a somewhat definite 
order of outline will best represent to the teacher the important principles in- 
volved in Primary Instruction, yet it is by no means supposed that he will 
follow, slavishly, the explanation of the several steps here given. 

The teacher should have in mind some simple sentence, 
for example, "It is my hat." Presuming that the pupils 
know nothing of the letters or w©rds, the task before him is 
to teach them the thought of the sentence, the four words, the 
seven different letters and the seven sounds which compose 
the sentence, and to enable them to express the thought 
naturally, uoon sight. The latter is preeminently the end to 


be attained, and the steps leading to it should be so con- 
ducted as will best accomplish this end. 

Idea. — The teacher may introduce the object hat to his 
class, and conduct an object lesson. It will aid in impressing 
the appearance of the word when it is presented. 

Idea Word. — The class may be lead by appropriate ques- 
tions, to the idea involved in the sentence. When I say 
" hat," what do you think about ? When I show you this 
(pointing to the object, hat), what do you think about? 
What is the name of this object? That name is a word. 
Can you see the word " hat " when I say it with my mouth ? 
Where are words put so that you can see them? Would you 
know the word "hat" if I should show it to you? I will 
now show you the word " hat," and I want you to remember 
what it looks like, so that you will know it w^henever you 
see it. 

Nothing more should be attempted at this lesson than to 
impress the appearance of the word " hat " upon the minds 
of the class. 

Sounds.— By prolonging the pronunciation of the word 
^ hat," the teacher can readily show to the smallest class, 
that it is composed of different sounds ; and that, to say the 
word "hat" is only to put these sounds so close together that 
no one will know where they are separated. The children 
should, at the same time, be taught to give the sounds. 

Letter. — Each one of these sounds has a name. Tell the 
children that the name of the first sound heard in the word 
" hat " is h. Show them the letter h and show them that it 
is the same as the first mark or form in the word "hat." 
The sound and the name of the sound should then b® 
frequently alternated until the class will associate them 
readil)', and promptly recognize either. 

Other Words. — The other words of the sentence should 
be taught first by name and then separated into sounds 
according to the methods suggested for the word " hat." 

Reading. — The teacher of primary pupils should not 
force upon them any technical definition of Reading, but lid 


should so conduct their approach to it, that they will absof^ 
the idea that Reading is saying something from words thai art 

The pupils, before seeing the sentence, "It is my hat,'* 
should be capable of pronouncing the words of the sentence 
upon sight, as promptly as they would pronounce the 
names of their classmates or of their brothers and sisters. 
The teacher should call from the child an expression of the 
sentence before it is seen : " Harry, suppose your hat is in 
your hand. If I ask you, whose hat have you in your hand, 
what will you say?" He may answer, "It's mine." The 
teacher need only tell him that it is prettier and more cor- 
rect to say, "It is my hat," and that, as he comes to school 
to learn, he should now answer in those words. Harry, 
whose hat is that? The- answer will be an expression and not 
a merely formal utterance of the words, as if the teacher had 
pointed in succession to " It " and " is " and " my " and 
"hat." The expression thus obtained should then be used as 
a model for the child. How did you say "It is my hat?" 
The child repeats, and in the repetition is copying from his 
own natural expression, or from nature. 

The model having been obtained, let the teacher direct the 
pupils to the sentence upon the board or chart, asking, 
" What have you in your hand ?" They will answer with 
a proper expression of the words which i\\<&\v eyes now see. 
Tell them this is reading, and they have absorbed the idea 
that Reading is saying something from words that are seen. 

The object has been to approach Reading by another path 
than through pronunciation. The usual impression left 
upon the child is, "When I can pronounce the words of the 
sentence, I can read it. I can pronounce the words of this 
sentence, therefore I can read it." This is fundamentally 
wrong. It is exalting a prerequisite of reading to reading. 
Pronunciation, or knowing words on sight, is as much a pre- 
requisite of Reading as knowing figures is a prerequisite of 
arithmetic. Pupils should be constantly impressed with the 
idea, when they attempt to read, that it is tak&n for granted 


that they know the words. By the above process, the pupil 
will be early led to comprehend that when he, knowing the 
words, knows what they mean, and says them that others may 
know what they mean, he is reading. 


Processes for the cultivation and modulation of the voices 
a further knowledge of the sounds of the language and 
of their modifications, and the study and practice of gesture, 
should here be introduced, according to the age and grade of 
the pupils, and continued systematically in connection wdth 
all the lessons in reading. The principles governing Primary 
Instruction should be continued as long as there is necessity 
for them. The great principle there presented should be 
kept equally prominent in Advanced Instruction. 

The following outline is presented as a suggestive guide to 
the teacher of the advanced reading class : 

First. Pead the lesson for the class. 

Note. — Pupils will thus obtain a general impression of the selection, an4 
will be stimulated to tie preparation of tbe thought. 

Second. Pupils prepare sentiment of the lesson. 

NoTK.— This relates to their study of the selection between recitations. 

Third. Pupils give back the sentiment of the lesson in 
their own words, with explanation and anecdote. 

Note.— At least one period should be thus devoted preparatory to reading a^ 
new selection. It is a test of the pupils' knowledge of the sentiment. It culti- 
vates conversation outside of the usual commonplace conversation of chil- 
dren. It cultivates a conversational style of expression and establishes tho 
thought of the lesson in the mind of the pupil. 

Fourth. Word preparation. 

Fifth. Reading. 

Note.— Only a part of the lesson should be assigned for word preparation and 
reading, by which we refer to such practice on the difficult words as will secure 
their familiarity to the eye of the scholar; also, the reading of individual sem- 
tences and paragraphs with reference to expreasiooi. 


Sixth. Review upon merit. 

Note 1.— A half dozen lessons may be devoted to the aTJove exercises npon a 
single selection. The pupils should be marked upon their lessons as in othei 
branches, and allowed, according to the rank of their marks, to read a part 
or all of the selection before the class. This exercise may be continued in thel 
order of the marks received upon preparation, until all have read before the) 

Note 2. — Two selections may be kept before the class at one time, one in the 
process of review upon merit, the other in the process of preparation. This, 
with practical exercises, as suggested, will give abundant variety to the recita- 

To THE Teachek.— The teacher who desires to obtain for his pupils rapid 
progress in pure, natural expression, should be faithful in his observation and 
criticism upon their habits of speech in all the recitations of tie school, and 
as he may meet them at their homes or upon the playground The lesson in 
geography or arithmetic should be given in pure voice, clear eyAnoiation, and 
tritli intelligent expression. 



1. In Eeading and Speaking, let each separate thought be 
^'ell defined ; let it be expressed with full meaning and in 
due proportion. 

2. With reference to Enunciation there should be such a 
nearness of the words, the one to the other, as will preserve 
a magnetic connection, and yet suflScient separation to pro- 
tect the individuality of each. A foilure to observe the first 
will give a labored style; and a failure to observe the second 
will produce indistinctness. 

3. The speaker should be governed by the following funda> 
mental principles in the study of Public Address. First. 
He should reduce the expression to natural and original 
simplicity and truth, measured by an appropriate conversa- 
tion of the same language to a single individual. Second, 
He should so magnify that original simplicity that it may be 
as forcible to each of a multitude as it would have been if ad- 
dressed to one individual. 

4. The student should practice frequently, and observe his 
habit constantly, rather than to continue practice until weary 
«ind disinterested. 


5. In reference to style of expression, the student should 
practice often against inclination and natural taste ; other- 
wise he will become limited in style. 

6. Reserve characterization for such sentiment as is depend- 
ent upon the characterization for its effect. When it is ap- 
parent that an author has written for the thought, though put 
in the mouth of a specific character, the reader should make 
prominent the thought rather than divert it by intruding the 

7. The study of Elocution is the study of the highest natu- 
ral expression. Our highest natural expression can only be 
attained through our hig:hest manhood and womanhood. 
The student, therefore, should regard character in voice 
and manner as of primary importance in the study of Elocu- 


Emphasis gives due prominence to the important thoughts 
oi discourse. It employs all the processes of expression, 
quality, pitch, force, time, and slides. 

A sentence is usually composed of a capital idea, subordi- 
nate or dependent ideas, and their connections. The word 
or words expressing the capital idea represent the object for 
which the sentence was written, and claim such emphasis 
as will give it corresponding prominence in speech. The 
subordinate ideas are modifications of the capital thought, 
and the word or words expressing them require correspond- 
ing modifications of emphasis. The connectives are the 
linkings of the capital and subordinate ideas, and usually 
require little more than a correct vocal utterance for their 
expression. Varied and appropriate emphasis constitutes 
the highest skill of intellectual expression. 

Grouping.^-A proper grouping of words closely related to 
each other is highly important to correct Emphasis. 



Note.— The following exercises may be made a continuation of the Table of 
Vocal Exercises on page 41. They may be used with great interest and profit 
by the judicious teacher in connection with, or in preparation for, the regular 
reading lesson. 

ah ah 

1. aw - aw 

Note.— These sounds, in the order they are placed, if properly rendered, 
will represent the purest chest, throat, and head tones of which the voice is 
capable. The student should be careful to observe that there is a pure throat 
tone and a pure head tone, in contradistinction from the chest tone, but tliat 
each should possess what may be termed a chest resQuance. 

2. Co, boss ! CO, boss ! co ! co ! co ! 

3. Toll, toll, toll. Hurrah I hurrah ! hurrah I 

4. A, a,, e, 6, 1, i, 6, 5, u, ti. 

Note. — These may be practiced in various ways, but a special advantage may 
be received from their frequent repetition in the same breath. 

5. Select the names of a number of hotels, and express 
them according to taste or fancy, in imitation of a variety of 
hackmen at a railroad depot. 

6. Battalion — Eight about — Turn — Forward. 
Halt — Fix Bayonets — Quick — March. 
Double — Charge. 

7. " Pull, pull in your lassos and bridle to steed, 

And speed, if ever for life you would speed, 
And ride for your lives, for your lives you must ride; 
For the plain is aflame, the prairie on fire; 
And feet of wild horses hard flying before, 
I hear like a sea breaking high on the shore; 
While the buffalo come like the surge of the sea, 
Driven far by the flame, driving fast on us three, 
As a hurricane comes, crushing palms in his ire :" 

Note. — This exerci.'^e is given with special reference to economy of breath. 
JElead rapidly, articulate didtiaclly, and consume the least possible breath. 



g Charcoal, charcoal, charcoal. 

Charcoal, charcoal, charcoal. 

charcoal, charcoal, charcoal. 

Charcoal, charcoal, charcoal, 

ol, charcoal, charco 
o o 


ol, charcoal. 

Note. — In the first of these exercises there should he a separation of pitch 
hetween the first three and the second three, to the extent of an octave. In the 
second, change the pitch to the same degree upon each successive word. In the 
third exercise, let the voice pass through the sanae degree of pitch, making the 
changes as the diagram suggests. 

9. Vary the long vowel sounds among the different forms, 
(as represented by the Table of Vocal Exercises.) changing 
at will ; also according to the several qualities and other 
modulations of voice. 

10. Oyez! oyez! All — persons — having — business — to — 
do— with— the— Circuit—Court— of — the —United— States— 
for — the— Southern— District— of — New— York— draw— near 
— give — your — attention — and— you— shall— be— heard. 

11. Boat ahoy I 





f. Ihear them now up-ou the hill, I hear them faint-erandfaiiit-erstill- 

p. I hear them now up-ou the hill, I hear them faint-cr and faint-er still. 
pp. I hear them now up-on the hill, I hear them I'aiut-eraud Iain t-er stilL 

— :: • — ^v^.^''' •— ^ 9 — ' — ■• 

They stole, they stole, they stole my child a - way. 
Thtjy stole, they stole, they stole my child a - way. 



No other exercise is more healthful, either to the mind or 
body, than pure, natural laughter. The judicious practice of 
this as an exercise, in representation of the various styles of 
laughter, will be found useful and invigorating. Here again 
the long vowel sounds alone, or preceded by the sound of h 
may be used with excellent effect. The student will readily 
find other exercises appropriate for practice. 


It will be conceded that no other language is so rich in 
meaning as the language of the Bible. Great leading truths 
are but the branches upon which cluster the most varied 
practical lessons of wisdom and virtue. 

Almost whole books of the sacred writings are marked in 
each successive sentence with this abundant fruitfulness of 
meaning. With but an equal amount of attention and 
preparation, it is, therefore, but natural that there would be 
correspondingly, a greater failure in giving full and complete 
expression to the language of the Bible than to the language 
of human origin. 

In the most ordinary forms of speech, a part of the sense 
is constantly lost for want of a proper adaptation in the 
modulations of the voice. How much more this must be 
true where almost every word has an important bearing 
upon the whole, thus requiring a constantly changing 
variety of tone, time, stress and slide, in giving completeness 
to the sense. Here may be based two great classes of evils 
in expression. 

1st. That form of expression which yields only a part of the 
meaning. We have a vast field of utterance, marked by 
various degrees of monotony, in w^hich only a part of the 
meaning is brought out. No injustice maybe done to that 
which is said, but it is not all said. Important words are lost 


in the general tone. The lights and shades of modulation 
are slighted, thus robbing the author of much that his words 
should have been made to convey. Through ignorance of 
the power of these changes, or the neglect of them, precious 
utterances are rendered fruitless and barren. 

2d. A perversion of the true meaning. A quality of voice at 
variance with the sentiment, an improper pitch, a misplaced 
emphasio, inappropriate time, a false slide or inflection, may 
so utterly destroy the sense, and misrepresent the meaning, as 
to divert the words entirely from their purpose. 

It should be made the conscientious practice of every 
reader of the Bible, first to satisfy his own mind as to the 
meaning of each passage, and then to see that his rendering 
will properly represent that meaning. 

In addition to these common wants of expression, there is 
a variety of styles, in popular use, peculiar to Bible reading, 
against which we utter a most respectful, though a most 
earnest protest. 

1st. Professional Style. 

This is capable of sub-division into a number of varieties, 
but with so little in favor of either, as to give no ground for 
distinction in the general objection. The reader should 
avoid a7iy style that is professional, if for no other reason than 
that it is professional. 

2d. Inflated Style. 

There is that form of utterance which says in the tone and 
manner^ "I am commissioned to handle this message. 
Behold me! Listen to mel" At w^hich, great swelling 
sounds issue forth, with the unfortunate efiect that Divine 
words are lost in human sound. We should ever recognize by 
a humility of tone and manner that the words are Jehovah's. 

3d. Pious Tone. 

We are not opposed to the utmost purity of voice, marked 
with a manly dignity and a becoming solemnity, but there 
prevails a variety of cant and whine which should fall undej- 


the same condemnation which God Himself pronounces 
upon other Up service. The best gift which God gave to man 
in the flesh, is his manhood; and we will not believe that He 
meant we should lose that manhood when uttering His 
words. If ever it should glow and burn in all its Divine 
origin, it is when thus standing in God's stead. 

4th. Trifling Style. 

This style, in contrast with professional dignity and exces- 
sive piety, is no less to be guarded against. King's messages, 
the proclamations of Chief Magistrates, the language of the 
wise and learned, claim a coiTesponding dignity of expres- 
sion ; how much more the words of Infinite Power and of 
Infinite Wisdom. 

It is evident that the very purpose of the Divine Word 
may be thwarted by the tone and manner. God Las made 
His word simple. Do not rob it of that simplicity by bring- 
ing in a profundity of expression. He has brought it down 
to the comprehension of the human mind. Do not give 
such an inhuman utterance as to raise it up out of ihe reach 
of humanity. 

God has made it plain. Do not involve it in mystery by 
vacant, weird and professional tones. God meant it for man. 
Do not read it to the angels. It is the word of the dear 
Heavenly Father, full of mercy and the tenderest afi'ection. 
Do not read it as the message of an Absolute Monarch. 
Yet, it is God's word. Avoid that reckless vagabondish man- 
ner w^hich so often marks the utterance of human language. 

It is God's truth, meant for man. Read it as of old they 
read "in the law of God, distinctly, and gave the sense, and 
caused them to understand the reading." 


A vast number of w^ords in the language afford special 
opportunity for significant expression through the sounds of 
which they are composed. There is an obvious harmony 


between the sounds and the meaning of the words, as in 
the following examples : Dash, round, noble, rich, sublime^ 
brisk, strength, poor, little, great, whirlwind, glory, rough, 
smooth, fresh, victory, thunder, old, ragged, murmur, repose. 

Note. — Such words are much moro numerous than is generally supposed, 
»nd ibey. should be carefully practiced iu the preparation of a selection. 


Prompt and appropriate change of voice and manner in 
harmony with the changing effects of language, is indis- 
pensable to the art of expression. Discourse is often like the 
dissolving view, interesting and effective largely from its 
contrasts. It requires one or more of the corresponding 
contrasts of quality, pitch, force, time, position, countenance, 
or movement. 


With a view to a clear comprehension of the language to 
be spoken, it is highly important that the student form the 
habit of a close analysis of the thought, and of the appliea- 
tion of modulation and action to its expression. The intelli- 
gent student of literature will have practical methods for the 
mental analysis of sentiment, yet he may be aided towards 
its expression by the answer of such questions as the follow- 
ing: Who wrote the language? When did he write it? 
Wny did he write it ? What were the motives which prompted 
iiim to think th« thought here expressed ? What would be 
the state of mind and heart of one in a condition to utter 
such language? If the conditions of life had so borne upon 
me as to call from me such thought, how would I express it? 

When the reader has thus investigated the language of the 
author, and analyzed tlie source of the thought it expresses, 
he has touched a corresponding source in his own nature, and 
has sprung upon himself the motives and the conditions of 
mind and body best fitted to its expression. 


In addition to this general analysis he may also ascertain 
the character of tone, the changes of tone, the position 
of the body, and the movement necessary to express the 
particular thought. What general quality of voice should 
be used to express the thought? Does the language suggest 
any exception to the general quality? What is the general 
pitch? And what are the exceptions to the general pitch? 
What is the prevailing force and what are the exceptions to 
the prevailing force? With reference to slides, do the 
positive or negative qualities of sentiment prevail ? What 
attitude or position of body would best reflect the general 
thought, and what changes are demanded? What of the 
fiicial expression ? Does the language suggest conversational, 
oratorical, or dramatic action ? 

Such analysis as this on the part of the student will lead 
to a prompt and appropriate association of voice and manner 
with the sentiment to be expressed. 

Note. — The student will constantly find difficulty in distinguishlHg the quality 
of the voice or the degree of pitch or force, or the shade of slide, or the particu- 
lar action which the thought suggests. Sentiment is so subtle and its changes 
BO imperceptible that it will be impossible to follow it by any order of reasoning, 
and he must be content with discovering the tendency of the thought with refer- 
ence to the various mediums of expression. 


Our conceptions of God lead us to think of a being not idle, 
but one to whom labor is rest; so wise that He knows without 
exertion ; so abundant in resources that the supply is ever 
equal to the demand. A noble conception of God has never 
created a being subject to excitement, or agitation, or one 
who could be moved or changed by the agitations of His 
creatures. He spake and it was brought forth. He speaks 
and it is done. He bids alike the storm or the calm. He 
commands the light or the darkness, and it obeys him. 

Art is the effort of the creature to reproduce the work of 


the Creator. When God made man, He breathed into him 
the breath of life, and in that breath of life was the breath or 
germ of divinity, and in proportion as man becomes infused 
with the divine breath, in proportion as he has much of God 
within him may he hope to breathe into his art divine breath, 
be it the marble, the canvas, the printed page, or the human 
voice ; and no other power of art will so reflect divine power 
as repose. The highest power is mastery, and the highest 
mastery is self-mastery, and of self-mastery repose is the em- 
blem. The orator, next to God himself, needs to possess 
the world, and to possess the world he must first possess him- 
self, — his hand, his foot, his eye, his breath, his body, his 
mind, his soul. Then, art shall have linked itself with 




HAVE you read in the Talmud of old, 
In the Legends the Rabbins have told 
Of the limitless realms of the air ; 
Have you read it — the marvelous story 
Of Sandalphon, the Angel of Glory, 
Sandalphon, the Angel of Prayer? 

How, erect, at the outermost gates 
Of the City Celestial he waits, 

With his feet on the ladder of light. 
That, crowded with angels unnumbered, 
By Jacob was seen, as he slumbered 

Alone in the desert at night ? 

The Angels of Wind and of Fire 
Chant only one hymn, and expire 

With the song's irresistible stress — 
Expire in their rapture and wonder, 
As harp-strings are broken asunder 

By music they throb to express. 

But serene in the rapturous throng, 
Unmoved by the rush of the song, 

With eyes unimpassioned and slow, 
Among the dead angels, the deathless 
Sandalphon stands listening, breathless, 

To sounds that ascend from below : — 



From the spirits on earth that adore, 
From the souls that entreat and implore 

In the fervor and passion of prayer ; 
From the hearts that are broken with losses, 
And weary with dragging the crosses 

Too heavy for mortals to bear. 

And he gathers the prayers as he stands, 
And they change into flowers in his hands, 

Into garlands of purple and red ; 
And beneath the great arch of the portal, 
Through the streets of the City Immortal 

Is wafted the fragrance they shed. 

It is but a legend I know, 
A fable, a phantom, a show. 

Of the ancient Rabbinical lore ; 
Yet the old mediaeval tradition, 
The beautiful, strange superstition, 

But haunts me and holds me the more. 

When I look from my window at night. 
And the welkin above is all white, 

All throbbing and panting with stars, 
Among them, majestic, is standing 
Sandalphon, the angel, expanding 

His pinions in nebulous bars. 

And the legend, I feel, is a part 

Of the hunger and thirst of the heart — 

The frenzy and Are of the brain, 
That grasps at the fruitage forbidden, 
The golden pomegranates of Eden, 

To quiet its fever and pain. Longfellow. 



ECHO was a beautiful nymph, fond of the woods and 
hills, where she devoted herself to woodland sports. 
She was a favorite of Diana, and attended her in the 
chase. But Echo had one failing ; she was fond of talk- 
ing, and whether in chat or argument, Avould have the last 
word. One day Juno was seeking her husband, who, she 
had reason to fear, was amusing himself among the nymphs. 
Echo by her talk contrived to detain the goddess till the 
nymphs made their escape. When Juno discovered it, she 
passed sentence upon Echo in these words : " You shall for- 
feit the use of that tongue with which you have cheated 
me, except for that one purpose you are so fond of — reply. 
You shall still have the last word, but no power to speak 

This nymph saw Narcissus, a beautiful youth, as he pur- 
sued the chase upon the mountains. She loved him and 
followed his footsteps. O, how she longed to address him 
in the softest accents, and win him to converse; but it 
was not in her power. She waited with impatience for 
him to speak first, and had her answer ready. One day 
the youth, being separated from his compaiiions, shouted 
aloud, "Who's here?" Echo replied, " Here." Narcissus 
looked around, but seeing no one, called out, " Come !" 
Echo answered, " Come." As no one came, Narcissus 
called again, " Why do you shun me ?" Echo asked the 
same question. " Let us join one another," said the 

The maid answered with all her heart in the same 
words, and hastened to the spot, ready to throw her arms 
about his neck. He started back, exclaiming, " Hands 


off! I would rather die than you should have me !" " Have 
me," said she ; but it was all in vain. He left her, and she 
went to hide her blushes in the recesses of the woods. From 
that time forth she lived in caves and among mountain cliffs. 
Her form faded with grief, till at last all her flesh shrank 
away. Her bones were changed into rocks, and there was 
nothing left of her but her voice. With that she is still 
ready to reply to any one who calls her, and keeps up her 
old habit of having the last word. 

Narcissus' cruelty in this case was not the only instance. 
He shunned all the rest of the nymphs, as he had done 
poor Echo. One day a maiden, who had in vain endeav- 
ored to attract him, uttered a prayer that he might some 
time or other feel what it was to love and meet no return 
of affection. The avenging goddess heard and granted 
the prayer. 

There was a clear fountain, with water like silver, to 
which the shepherds never drove their flocks, nor the 
mountain goats resorted, nor any of the beasts of the forest, 
neither was it defaced with fallen leaves or branches ; but 
the grass grew fresh around it, and the rocks sheltered it 
from the sun. Hither came one day the youth fatigued 
with hunting, heated and thirsty. He stooped down to 
drink, and saw his own image in the water ; he thought it 
was some beautiful water-spirit living m the fountain. He 
stood gazing with admiration at those bright eyes, those 
locks curled like the locks of Bacchus or Apollo ; the 
rounded cheeks, the ivory neck, the parted lips, and the 
glow of health and exercise over all. He fell in love with 

He brought his lips near to take a kiss ; he plunged his 
arms in to embrace the beloved object. It. fled at the 
touch, but returned again after a moment and renewed the 


fascination. He could not tear himself away ; he lost all 
thought of food or rest, while he hovered over the brink 
of the fountain gazing upon his own image. He talked 
with the supposed spirit : " Why, beautiful being, do you 
shun me ? Surely, my face is not one to repel you. The 
nymphs love me, and you yourself look not indifferent 
upon me. When I stretch forth my arms you do the 
same, and you smile upon me and answer my beckonings 
with the like." His tears fell into the water and disturbed 
the image. As he saw it depart, he exclaimed, " Stay, I 
entreat you ! Let me at least gaze upon you, if I may not 
touch you." 

With this, and much more of the same kind, he cher- 
ished the flame that had consumed him, so that by degrees 
he lost his color, his vigor, and the beauty which formerly 
had so charmed the nymph Echo. She kept near him, 
however, and when he exclaimed, " Alas ! alas !" she an- 
swered him with the same Avords. He pined away and 
died ; and when his shade passed the Stygian River, it 
leaned over the boat to catch a look of itself in the waters. 
The nymphs mourned for him, especially the water 
nymphs ; and when they smote their breasts Echo smote 
hers also. They prepared a funeral pile, and would have 
burned the body, but it was nowhere to be found ; but in 
its place a flower, purple within and surrounded with white 
leaves, which bears the name and preserves the memory of 
Narcissus. Thomas Bulfinch. 




LADY Clara Vere de Vere, 
Of me you shall not win renown : 
You thought to break a country heart 
For pastime, ere you went to town. 
At me you smiled, but unbeguiled 

I saw the snare, and I retired : 

The daughter of a hundred Earls, 

You are not one to be desired. 

Lady Clara Vere de Vere, 

I know you proud to bear your name ; 
Your pride is yet no mate for mine. 

Too proud to care from whence I came : 
Nor would I break for your sweet sake 

A heart that dotes on truer charms. 
A simple maiden in her flower 

Is worth a hundred coats-of-arms. 

Lady Clara Vere de -Vere, 

Some meeker pupil you must find ; 
For, were you queen of all that is, 

I could not stoop to such a mind. 
You sought to prove how I could love, 

And my disdain is my reply : 
The lion on your old stone gates 

Is not more cold to you than I. 

Lady Clara Vere de Vere, 

You put strange memories in my head ; 
Not thrice your l^ranching limes have blown 

Since I beheld young Laurence dead. 


O, your STveet eyes, your low replies I 

A great enchantress you may be ; 
But there was that across his throat 

Which you had hardly cared to see. 

Lady Clara Vere de Vere, 

When thus he met his mother's view, 
She had the passions of her kind, 

She spake some certain truths of you : 
Indeed I heard one bitter word 

That scarce is fit for you to hear ; 
Her manners had not that repose 

Which stamps the cast of Vere de Vere. 

Lady Clara Vere de Vere, 

There stands a spectre in your hall : 
The guilt of blood is at your door ; 

You changed a wholesome heart to gall. 
You held your course without remorse. 

To make him trust his modest worth ; 
And, last, you fix'd a vacant stare, 

And slew him with your noble birth. 

Trust me, Clara Vere de Vere, 

From yon blue heavens above us bent 
The grand old gardener and his wife 

Smile at the claims of long descent. 
Howe'er it be, it seems to me 

'Tis only noble to be good : 
Kind hearts are more than coronets. 

And simple faith than Norman blood. 


I know you, Clara Yere de Yere : 

You pine among your halls and towers ; 
The languid light of your proud eyes 

Is wearied of the rolling hours. 
In glowing health, with boundless wealth, 

But sickening of a vague disease. 
You know so ill to deal with time, 

You needs must play such pranks as these. 

Clara, Clara Yere de Yere, 

If time be heavy on your hands, 
Are there no beggars at your gate, 

Nor any poor about your lands ? 
O ! teach the orphan-boy to read ! 

Or teach the orphan-girl to sew ; 
Pray Heaven for a human heart, 

And let the foolish yeoman go. 

Alfred Tennyson. 


I SHALL not acknowledge that the honorable member 
goes before me. in regard for whatever of distinguished 
talent, or distinguished character, South Carolina has pro- 
duced. I claim part of the honor, I partake in the pride, 
of her great names. I claim them for countrymen, one 
and all ; the Laurenses, the Rutledges, the Pinckneys, the 
Sumters, the Marions, Americans all, whose fame is no 
more to be hemmed in by State lines, than their talents and 
patriotism were capable of being circumscribed within the 
same narrow limits. In their day and generation, they 
served and honored the country, and the whole country ; 


and their renown is of the treasures of the whole country. 
Him whose honored name the gentleman himself bears, 
— does he esteem me less capable of gratitude for his pa- 
triotism, or sympathy for his sufferings, than if his eyes 
had first opened upon the light of Massachusetts, instead 
of South Carolina ? Sir, does he suppose it in his power 
to exhibit a Carolina^ame so bright as to produce envy in 
my bosom ? 

IS'o, sir, increased gratification and delight, rather. I 
thank God that, if I am gifted with little of the spirit 
which is able to raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none^ 
as I trust, of that other spirit which would drag angels 
down. When I shall be found, sir, in my place here in 
the Senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit, because 
it happens to spring up beyond the little limits of my own 
State or neighborhood ; when I refuse, for any such cause, 
or for any cause, the homage due to American talent, to 
elevated patriotism, to sincere devotion to liberty and the 
country ; or, if I see an uncommon endowment of Heaven, 
if I see extraordinary capacity and virtue in any son of 
the South, and if, moved by local prejudice or gangrened 
by State jealousy, I get up here to abate the tithe of a hair 
from his just character and just fame, may my tongue 
cleave to the roof of my mouth ! 

Sir, let me recur to pleasing recollections ; let me in- 
dulge in refreshing remembrance of the past ; let me re- 
mind you that, in early times, no States cherished greater 
harmony, both of principle and feeling, than Massachu- 
setts and South Carolina. Would to God that harmony 
might again return ! Shoulder to shoulder they went 
through the Revolution ; hand in hand they stood round 
the administration of Washington, and felt his own great 
arm lean on them for support. Unkind feeling, if it exist, 


alienation and distrust, are the growth, unnatural to such 
soils, of false princijDles since sown. They are weeds, the 
seeds of which that same great arm never scattered. 

Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon Mas- 
sachusetts ; she needs none. There she is : behold her, 
and judge for yourselves. There is her history ; the world 
knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is 
Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill ; 
and there they will remain forever. The bones of her 
sons, falling in the great struggle for Independence, now 
lie mingled with the soil of every State from New England 
to Georgia ; and there they will lie forever. And, sir, 
where American Liberty raised its first voice, and where 
its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives, in 
the strength of its manhood and full of its original spirit. 
If discord and disunion shall wound it ; if party strife and 
blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it ; if folly and 
madness, if uneasiness under salutary and necessary re- 
straint shall succeed in separating it from that Union by 
which alone its existence is made sure ; it will stand in the 
end, by the side of that cradle in which its infancy was 
rocked ; it will stretch forth its arm, with whatever of 
vigor it may still retain, over the friends who gather round 
it ; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proud- 
est monuments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its 

Daniel Webster. 



I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he ; 
I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; 
" Good speed !" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew ; 
" Speed !" echoed the wall to us galloping through ; 
Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, 
And into the midnight we galloped abreast. 

Not a word to each other ; we kept the great pace 
Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place ; 
I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, 
Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, 
Rebuckled the check-strap, chained slacker the bit, 
Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit. 

'Twas moonset at starting ; but while we drew near 

Lokeren, the cocks crew, and twilight dawned clear; 

At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see ; 

At DiiiFeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be ; 

And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half-chime, 

So Joris broke silence with, " Yet there is time !" 

At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun. 
And against him the cattle stood black every one, 
To stare thro' the mist at us galloping past. 
And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last, 
With resolute shoulders, each butting away 
The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray. 

And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back 
For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track ; 


And one eye's black intelligence, — ever that glance 
O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance ! 
And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon 
His fierce lips shook upward in galloping on. 

By Hasselt, Dirck groaned ; and cried Joris, " Stay spur ! 
Your Koos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her ; 
We'll remember at Aix" — for one heard the quick wheeze 
Of her chest, saw the stretched neck, and staggering knees, 
And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank. 
As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. 

So we were left galloping, Joris and I, 

Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky ; 

The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, 

'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chafl?*; 

Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white. 

And " Gallop," gasped Joris, " for Aix is in sight !" 

*' How they'll greet us !" — and all in a moment his roan 
Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; 
And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight 
Of the news w^hich alone could save Aix from her fate, 
With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, 
And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim. 

Then I cast loose my bufl* coat, each holster let fall, 
Shook off* both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, 
Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear. 
Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer ; 
Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or 

Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. 

Othello's apology. 209 

And all I remember is, friends flocking round 
As I sate with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground, 
And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine. 
As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, 
Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) 
Was no more than his due who brought good news from 
Ghent. Robert Biiowning. 


MOST potent, grave, and reverend seigniors : 
j\Iy very noble, and approved good masters : 
That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, 
It is most true ; true, I have married her : 
The very head and front of my offending 
Hath this extent ; no more. 

Rude am I in speech. 
And little blessed with the set phrase of peace : 
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, 
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used 
Their dearest action in the tented field ; 
And little of this great world can I speak. 
More than pertains to feats of broils and battle ; 
And therefore, little shall I grace my cause, 
In speaking of myself 

Yet, by your patience, 
I will, a round, unvarnished tale deliver. 
Of my whole coui-se of love ; what drugs, what charms, 
What conjuration, and what mighty magic — 
For such proceedings I am charged wathal — 
I won his dauo^hter with. 


Her father loved me ; oft invited me ; 
Still questioned me the story of my life, 
From year to year : the battles, sieges, fortunes, 
That I had past. 

I ran it through e'en from my boyish days, 
To the very moment that he bade me tell it. 
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances ; 
Of moving accidents by flood and field ; 
Of hairbreadth 'scapes, in the imminent deadly breach ; 
Of being taken by the insolent foe. 
And sold to slavery ; of my redemption thence, 
And with it all my travel's history. 

All these to hear, 
Would Desdemona seriously incline ; 
But still the house affairs would draw her thence, 
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch. 
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear, 
Devour up my discourse. Which, I observing, 
Took once a pliant hour, and found good means 
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart. 
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate ; 
Whereof by parcels, she had something heard, 
But not distinctly. 

I did consent ; 
And often did beguile her of her tears. 
When I did speak of some distressful stroke, 
That my youth suffered. My story being done, 
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs. 
She swore in faith 't was strange, 't was passing strange ; 
'T was pitiful ; 't was wondrous pitiful ; 
She wished she had not heard it ; yet she wished 
That heaven had made her such a man. 


She thanked me, 
And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, 
I should but teach him how to tell my story, 
And that would woo her. On this hint I spake ; 
She loved me for the dangers I had passed ; 
And I loved her that she did pity them. 
This is the only witchcraft which I've used. 



THEN Agrippa said unto Paul, Thou art permitted to 
speak for thyself. Then Paul stretched forth the hand, 
and answered for himself: 

I think myself happy, king Agrippa, because I shall 
answer for myself this day before thee touching all the 
things whereof I am accused of the Jews ; especially be- 
cause I know thee to be expert in all customs and questions 
which are among the Jews : wherefore I beseech thee to 
hear me patiently. 

My manner of life from my youth, which was at the first 
among mine own nation at Jerusalem, know all the Jews ; 
which knew me from the beginning, if they would testify, 
that after the most straitest sect of our religion I lived a 
Pharisee. And now I stand and am judged for the hope 
of the promise made of God unto our fathers : unto which 
promise our twelve tribes, instantly serving God day and 
night, hope to come. For which hope's sake, king Agrippa, 
I am accused of the Jews. 

Why should it be thought a thing incredible with you, 
that God should raise the dead ? I verily thought with 
myself, that I ought to do many things contrary to the 



name of Jesus of Nazareth. Which thing I also did in 
Jerusalem : and many of the saints did I shut up in prison, 
having received authority from the chief priests ; and when 
they were put to death, I gave my voice against them. 
And I punished them oft in every synagogue, and com- 
pelled them to blaspheme ; and being exceedingly mad 
against them, I persecuted them even unto strange -cities. 
Whereupon as I went to Damascus with authority and 
commission from the chief priests, at mid-day, O king, I 
saw in the way a light from heaven, above the brightness 
of the sun, shining round about me and them AYhich jour- 
neyed w^ith me. And when w^e w^ere all fallen to the earth, 
I heard a voice speaking unto me, and saying in the 
Hebrew tongue, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ? it is 
hard for thee to kick against the pricks. 

And I said, AVho art thou. Lord? And He said, I am* 
Jesus whom thou persecutest. But rise, and stand upon 
thy feet ; for I have appeared unto thee for this purpose, 
to make thee a minister and a w-itness both of these things 
which thou hast seen, and of those things m the which I 
will appear unto thee ; delivering thee from the people, and 
from the Gentiles, unto w-hom now I send thee, to open 
their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and 
from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive 
forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are 
sanctified by faith that is in me. 

Whereupon, O king Agrippa, I was not disobedient unto 
the heavenly vision : but showed first unto them of Damas- 
cus, and at Jerusalem, and throughout all the coasts of Ju- 
dea, and then to the Gentiles, that they should repent and 
turn to God, and do works meet for repentance. For these 
causes the Jews caught me in the temple, and Avent about 
to kill me. Having therefore obtained help of God, I con- 


tinue unto this day, witnessing both to small and great, 
saying none other things than those which the prophets and 
Moses did say should come : That Christ should suffer, and 
that He should be the first that should rise from the dead, 
and should show light unto the people, and to the Gentiles. 

And as he thus spake for himself, Festus said with a loud 
voice, Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning doth 
make thee mad. But he said, I am not mad, most noble 
Festus ; but speak forth the words of truth and soberness. 
For the king knoweth of these things, before whom also I 
speak freely : for I am persuaded that none of these things 
are hidden from him ; for this thing was not done in a 
corner. King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets ? I 
know that thou believest. Then Agrippa said unto Paul, 
Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. 

And Paul said, I would to God, that not ,only thou, but 
also all that hear me this day, w^ere both almost, and alto- 
gether such as I am, except these bonds. And when he 
had thus spoken, the king rose up, and the governor, and 
Bernice, and they that sat with them : and when they were 
gone aside, they talked between themselves, saying, This 
man doeth nothing worthy of death or of bonds. Then 
said Agrippa unto Festus, This man might have been set 
at liberty, if he had not appealed unto Csesar. — Bible. 



LONE I stand ; 
On either hand 
In gathering gloom stretch sea and land ; 
Beneath my feet. 
With ceaseless beat. 
The waters murmur low and sweet. 


Slow falls the night : 

The tender light 
Of stars grows brighter and more bright, 

The lingering ray 

Of dying day 
Sinks deeper down and fades away. 

Now fast, now slow, 
The south winds blow ; 

And softly whisper, breathing low ; 
With gentle grace 
They kiss my face, 

Or fold me in their cool embrace. 

Where one pale star 

O'er waters far, 
Droops down to touch the harbor bar, 

A faint light gleams, 

A light that seems 
To grow and grow till nature teems 

With mellow haze ; 

And to my gaze 
Comes proudly rising, with its rays 

No longer dim, 

The moon ; its rim 
In splendor gilds the billowy brim. 

I watch it gain 
The heavenly plain ; 

Behind it trails a starry train — 
While low and sweet 
The wavelets beat 

Their murmuring music at my feet. 

Catiline's defiance. 215 

Fair night of June ! 

Yon silver moon 
Gleams pah and still. The tender tune, 

Faint-floating, j^lays, 

In moonlit lays, 
A melody of other days. 

'Tis sacred ground ; 

A peace profound 
Comes o'er my soul. I hear no sound, 

Save at my feet 

The ceaseless beat 
Of waters murmuring low and sweet. 

W. W. Ellsworth. 


CONSCRIPT Fathers : 
I do not rise to waste the night in words ; 
Let that Plebeian talk, 'tis not my trade ; 
But here I stand for right— let him sho^v proofs — 
For Roman right, though none, it seems, dare stand 
To take their share with me. Ay, cluster there ! 
Cling to your master, judges, Romans, slaves ! 
His charge is false ; — I dare him to his proofs. 
You have my answer. Let my actions speak ! 

But this I will avow, that I have scorn'd, 
And still do scorn, to hide my sense of wrong. 
Who brands me on the forehead, breaks my sword, 
Or lays the bloody scourge upon my back, 
Wrongs me not half so much as he who shuts 


The gates of honor on me, — turning out 

The Roman from his birthright ; and for what ? 

To fling your offices to every slave ! 

Vipers, that creep where man disdains to climb, 

And, having wound their loathsome track to the top 

Of this huge, moldering monument of Rome, 

Hang hissing at the nobler man below. \_To the Senate. 

Come, consecrated Lictors, from your thrones ; 
Fling down your sceptres ; take the rod and axe, 
And make the murder as you make the law. 

Banish'd from Rome ! What's banish'd but set free 
From daily contact of the things I loathe ? 
" Tried and convicted traitor !" Who says this ? 
Who'll prove it, at his peril, on my head ? 
Banish'd ! I thank you for't : it breaks my chain ! 
I held some slack allegiance till this hour ; 
But now my sword's my own. Smile on, my Lords ! 
I scorn to count what feelings, wither'd hopes, 
Strong provocations, bitter, burning wrongs, 
I have within my heart's hot cells shut up. 
To leave you in your lazy dignities. 
But here I stand and scofl* you ! here I fling 
Hatred and full defiance in your face ! 
Your Consul's merciful ; for this all thanks. 
He dares not touch a hair of Catiline ! 

" Traitor !" I go ; but, I return ! This — trial ! 
Here I devote your Senate ! I've had wrongs 
To stir a fever in the blood of age. 
Or make the infant's sinews strong as steel. 
This day's the birth of sorrow ; this hour's work 


Will breed proscriptions ! Look to your hearths, my 

Lords ! 
For there, henceforth, shall sit, for household gods, 
Shapes hot from Tartarus ; all shames and crimes ; 
Wan Treachery, with his thirsty dagger drawn ; 
Suspicion, poisoning his brother's cup ; 
Xaked Rebellion, with the torch and axe, 
Making his wild sport of your blazing thrones ; 
Till Anarchy comes down on you like night, 
And Massacre seals Rome's eternal grave. 

I go ; but not to leap the gulf alone. 
I go ; but when I come, 'twill be the burst 
Of ocean in the earthquake — rolling back 
In swift and mountainous ruin. Fare you well ! 
You build my funeral pile ; but your best blood 
Shall quench its flame ! George Croly. 


HOW bright are the honors which await those who, 
with sacred fortitude and patriotic patience, have 
endured all things that they might save their native land 
from division and from the power of corruption ! The 
honored dead ! They that die for a good cause, are re- 
deemed from death. Their names are gathered and gar 
nered. Their memory is precious. Each place grows 
proud for them who were born there. There is to be ere 
long, in every village and in every neighborhood, a glow- 
ing pride in its martyred heroes. 

Tablets shall preserve their names. Pious love shall 
renew their inscriptions as time and the unfeeling elements 
decay them. And the national festivals shall give multi- 


tudes of precious names to the orator's lips. Children 
shall grow up under more sacred inspirations, whose 
elder brothers, dying nobly for their country, left a name 
that honored and inspired all who bore it. Orphan chil- 
dren shall find thousands of fathers and mothers to love 
and help those whom dying heroes left as a legacy to the 
gratitude of the public. 

O, tell me not that they are dead,— that generous host, 
that airy army of invisible heroes ! They hover as a cloud 
of witnesses above this nation. Are they dead that yet 
speak louder than we can speak, and in a more universal 
language ? Are they dead that yet act ? Are they dead 
that yet move upon society, and inspire the people with 
nobler motives and more heroic patriotism ? 

Ye that mourn, let gladness mingle with your tears. 
He was your son ; but now he is the nation's. He made 
your household bright ; now his example inspires a 
thousand households. Dear to his brothers and sisters, he 
is now brother to every generous youth in the land. 

Before, he was narrowed, appropriated, shut up to you. 
Now he is augmented, set free, and given to all. He has 
died from the family that he might live to the nation. 
Not one name shall be forgotten or neglected : and it shall 
by and by be confessed, as of an ancient hero, that he did 
more for his country by his death than by his whole life. 

Every mountain and hill shall have its treasured name ; 
every river shall keep some solemn title ; every valley and 
every lake shall cherish its honored register ; and till the 
mountains are worn out, and the rivei-s forget to flow, till the 
clouds are weary of replenishing springs, and the springs 
forget to gush, and the rills to sing, shall their names be 
kept fresh with reverent honors which are inscribed upon the 
book of National Remembrance ! H. W. Beecher. 



I WAS sitting alone toward the twilight, 
Witli spirit troubled and vexed, 
With thoughts that were morbid and gloomy, 
And faith that was sadly perplexed. 

Some homely work I was doing 
For the child of my love and care, 

Some stitches half wearily setting 
In the endless need of repair. 

But my thoughts were about the " building," 
The work some day to be tried ; 

And that only the gold and the silver, 
And the precious stones should abide. 

And remembering my own poor efforts, 
The wretched work I had done. 

And, even when trying most truly, 
The meagre success I had won ! 

" It is nothing but wood, hay, and stubble," 
I said : " It will all be burned — 
This useless fruit of the talents 
One day to be returned. 

" And I have so longed to serve Him, 
And sometimes I know I have tried ; 
But I am sure when He sees such building, 
He will never let it abide." 


Just then, as I turned the garment, 
That no rent should be left behind, 

My eyes caught an odd little bungle 
Of mending and patchwork combined. 

My heart grew suddenly tender, 
And something blinded my eyes 

With one of those sweet intuitions 
That sometimes makes us so wise. 

Dear child, she wanted to help me ; 

I knew 't was the best she could do ; 
But oh, w^hat a botch she had made it — 

The gray mismatching the blue ! 

And yet — can you understand it ? — 
With a tender smile and a tear, 

And a half-compassionate yearning, 
I felt her grown more dear. 

Then a sweet voice broke the silence, 
And the dear Lord said to me, 
" Art thou tenderer for the little child 
Than I am tender for thee ?" 

Then straightway I knew His meaning, 
So full of compassion and love, 

And my faith came back to its Refuge, 
Like the glad returning dove. 

For I thought when the Master Builder 
Comes down His temple to view. 

To see what rents must be mended, 
And what must be builded anew ; 


Perhaps, as He looks o'er the building, 
He will bring my work to the light, 

And seeing the marring and bungling, 
And how far it all is from right — 

He will feel as I felt for my darling, 
And will say as I said for her, 
" Dear child, she wanted to help me, 
And love for me was the spur, 

" And for the real love that is in it, 

The work shall seem perfect as mine ; 
And because it was willing service, 
I will crown it with plaudit divine." 

And there in the deepening twilight 

I seemed to be clasping a Hand, 
And to feel a great love constraining me, 

Stronger than any command. 

Then I knew by the thrill of sweetness 
'Twas the hand of the Blessed One, 

Which would tenderly guide and hold me, 
Till all the labor is done. 

So my thoughts are nevermore gloomy, 

My faith no longer is dim ; 
But my heart is strong and restful. 

And my eyes are unto Him. 

Mrs. Herrick Johnson. 



This selection is a poem addressed to the class of 1829, in Harvard College, 
Bome thirty years after their graduation. The author, who retains, in a high 
degree, the freshness and joyousness of youth, addresses his classmates as 

HAS there any old fellow got mixed with the boys ? 
If there has, take him out, without making a noise. 
Hang the almanac's cheat and the catalogue's spite 
Old Time is a liar ! we're twenty to-night ! 

We're twenty ! We're twenty ! Who says we are more ? 
He's tipsy, — young jackanapes ! — show him the door ! 
" Gray temples at twenty ?" — Yes ! white if we please ; 
Where the snow-flakes fall thickest there's nothing can 
freeze ! 

Was it snowing I spoke of ? Excuse the mistake ! 
Look close, — you will see not a sign of a flake ! 
We want some new garlands for those we have shed, 
And these are white roses in place of the red. 

We've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told, 
Of talking (in public) as if we were old ; 
That boy we call " Doctor," and this we call " Judge ;" 
It's a neat little fiction — of course it's all fudge. 

That fellow's the " Speaker," the one on the right ; 
" Mr. Mayor," my young one, how are you to-night ? 
That's our "Member of Congress," we say when we chaff; 
There's the " Keverend " — what's his name ? — don't make 
me laugh. 

That boy with the grave mathematical look 
Made believe he had written a wonderful book, 


And the Royal Society thought it was true ! 

So they chose him right in, — a good joke it was too ! 

There's a boy we pretend, 'v^^th a three-decker brain, 
That could harness a team with a logical chain ; 
When he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire, 
We called him " The Justice," but now he's the " Squire.'* 

And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith ; 
Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith ; 
But he shouted a song for the brave and the free, — 
Just read on his medal, " My country," " of thee !" 

You hear that boy laughing ? You think he's all fun ; 
But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done ; 
The children laugh loud as they troop to his call, 
And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all ! 

Yes, we're boys, — always playing with tongue or with pen ; 
And I sometimes have asked. Shall we ever be men ? 
Shall we always be youthful, and laughing, and gay. 
Till the last dear companion drops smiling away ? 

Then here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray ! 
The stars of its winter, the dews of its May ! 
And when we have done with our life-lasting toys, 
Dear Father, take care of Thy children. The Boys ! 

O. W. Holmes. 


A GREAT mastery — like that of Wellington or Bis- 
marck — is not so common in the world as to excite 
no surprise. True mastery is compact of supreme quali- 
ties. It is heroism ; it is culture ; it is enthusiasm ; it is 


faith ; it is intelligence ; it is endurance ; it is unconquer- 
able will. There are men of conviction whose very faces 
will light up an era. And there are noble women in whose 
eyes you may almost read the whole plan of salvation. 

Insight, foresight, and knowledge are what the world 
demands of a great leader — men w^ho have power to trans- 
mute calamity into greatness. To a real commander 
nothing exists which cannot be overcome. *' Sir," said 
Mirabeau's secretary, "what you require is impossible." 
" Impossible !" cried Mirabeau, " never name to me again 
that blockhead of a word." 

If any man was ever master of the situation, from his 
boundless knowledge, abundant language, instantaneous 
apprehension, and undaunted speech, it was Edmund 
Burke. The vastness of his attainments and the im- 
mensity of his varied powers startled his great contempo- 
raries into admiration. Goldsmith, Windham, Pitt, and 
others have left on record eloquent testimony to the superi- 
ority of Burke's genius, and the striking fact that, he was 
the best informed man of his time. Did this great states- 
man lounge carelessly into all this reputation ? Did he 
rely solely upon his genius to bring him into parliament, to 
continue that long and brilliant career which is part of 
English history ? Never for a moment did he trust to his 
genius. See him at the top of his high fame, elaborating 
every speech, every sentence he wrote, with the most stu- 
dious care — studious and exhaustive care. 

All great leaders have been inspired with a great belief. 
In nine cases out of ten failure is born of unfaith. There 
is a fliith so expansive and a hope so elastic that a man 
having them will keep on believing and hoping till all, 
danger is past and victory is sure. Such a man was Cyrus 
Field, who spent so many years of his life in perfecting a 


communication second only in importance to the discovery 
of this country. It was a long, hard struggle. Thirteen 
years of anxious watching and ceaseless toil were his. 
Think what that enthusiast accomplished by his untiring 
energy. He made fifty voyages across the Atlantic. And 
when everything looked darkest for his enterprise, his 
courage never flagged for an instant. Think of him in 
those gloomy periods pacing the decks of ships on dark, 
stormy nights, in mid-ocean, or wandering in the desolate 
forests of ]S"ewfoundland in pelting rains, comfortless and 
forlorn. Public excitement had grown wild over the mys- 
sterious workings of those flashing wires. And when the 
first cable ceased to throb, the reaction was intense. Stock- 
holders and the public grew exasperated and suspicious ; 
unbelievers sneered at the whole project and called the tel- 
egraph a stupendous hoax. At last day dawned again, 
and another cable was paid out. Twelve hundred miles of 
it were laid down, and the ship was just lifting her head to 
a stifl" breeze, when, without a moment's warning, the cable 
suddenly snapped short ofi* and plunged into the sea. 
Field returned to England defeated. But his energy was 
even greater than before. In five months, by the blessing 
of Heaven, another cable was stretched from continent to 

Then came that never-to-be-forgotten search in four 
ships for the lost cable. In the bow of one of these ships 
stood Cyrus Field day and night, in storm and fog, in 
squall and calm', intently watching the quiver of the grap- 
nel that was dragging two miles down on the bottom 
of the deep. The spirit of this brave man was rewarded. 
All felt as if life and death hung on the issue. It was 
only when the cable was brought over the bow and on the 
deck that men dared to breathe. Even then they hardly 


believed their eyes. Some crept toward it to see, feel of it, 
to be sure it was there. Then they carried it along to the 
electrician's room, to see if the long-sought treasure was 
alive or dead. A few minutes of suspense, and a flash told 
of the lightning current again set free. Some turned away 
and wept, others broke into cheers, and the cry ran from 
ship to ship, while rockets lighted up the darkness of the 

^yith thankful hearts they turned their faces again to 
the west ; but soon the wind rose, and for thirty-six hours 
they were exposed to all the dangers of a storm on the 
Atlantic. Yet in the very height and fury of the gale a 
flash of light, which having crossed to Ireland returned to 
them in mid-ocean, telling them that the friends whom 
they had left behind on the banks of the Hudson were 
well, and following them with their wishes and their 
prayers. This was like the whisper of God from the sea, 
bidding them keep heart and hope. 

And now after all those thirteen yeai-s of almost super- 
human struggle, and that one moment of almost superhu- 
man victory, we may safely include Cyrus W. Field among 
the masters of the situation. James T. Field. 


SUMMER of 'sixty-three, sir, and Conrad was gone 
away — 
Gone to the county-to^vn, sir, to sell our first load of 

hay — 
We lived in the log-house yonder, poor as ever you've 

seen ; 
Roschen there was a baby, and I was only nineteen. 


Conrad, he took the oxen, but he left Kentucky Belle ; 
How much we thought of Kentuck, I couldn't begin to 

Came from the Blue-Grass country ; my father gave her to 

When I rode North with Conrad, away from the Tennessee. 

Conrad lived in Ohio — a German he is, you know — 

The house stood in broad corn-fields, stretching on, row 

after row : 
The old folks made me welcome ; they were kind as kind 

could be ; 
But I kept longing, longing, for the hills of the Tennessee. 

O, for a sight of water, the shadowed slope of a hill ! 
Clouds that hang on the summit, a wind that never is still ! 
But the level land went stretching away to meet the sky — 
Never a rise, from north to south, to rest the weary eye ! 

From east to west, no river to shine out under the moon, 
Nothing to make a shadow in the yellow afternoon ; 
Only the breathless sunshine, as I looked out, all forlorn ; 
Only the " rustle, rustle," as I walked among the corn. 

When I fell sick with pining, we didn't wait any more, 
But moved away from the corn-lands out to this river 

shore — 
The Tuscarawas it's called, sir — off there's a hill, you see — 
And now I've grown to like it next best to the Tennessee. 

I was at work that morning. Some one came riding like mad 
Over the bridge and up the road — Farmer Rouf 's little lad: 
Bareback he rode ; he had no hat ; he hardly stopped to say, 
" Morgan's men are coming, Frau ; they're galloping on 
this way. 


"I'm sent to warn the neighbors. He isn't a mile be- 
hind ; 
He sweeps up all the horses — every horse that he can find : 
Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terrible men. 
With bowie-knives and pistols, are galloping up the glen." 

The lad rode down the valley, and I stood still at the door ; 
The baby laughed and prattled, playing with spools on the 

floor ; 
Kentuck w^as out in the pasture ; Conrad, my man, was 

Near, nearer Morgan's men were galloping, galloping on! 

Sudden I picked up baby, and ran to the pasture-bar : 

" Kentuck !" I called ; " Kentucky !" She knew me ever so 

I led her down the gully that turns off there to the right. 
And tied her to the bushes ; her head was just out of sight. 

As I ran back to the log-house, at once there came a 

sound — 
The ring of hoofs, galloping hoofs, trembling over the 

ground — 
Coming into the turnpike out from the White-Woman 

Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terril^le men. 

As near ^hey drew and nearer, my heart beat fast in 

alarm ; 
But still I stood in the doorway, with baby on my arm. 
They came ; they passed ; with spur and whip in haste 

they sped along — 
Morgan, Morgan the raider, and his band six hundred 



Weary they looked and jaded, riding through night and 

through day ; 
Pushing on East to the river, many long miles away, 
To the border-strip where Virginia runs up into the West, 
And ford the Upper Ohio before they could stop to rest. 

On like the wind they hurried, and Morgan rode in 

advance : 
Bright were his eyes like live coals, as he gave me a 

sideways glance ; 
And I was just breathing freely, after my choking pain. 
When the last one of the troopers suddenly drew his rein. 

Frightened I was to death, sir ; I scarce dared look in his 

As he asked for a drink of water, and glanced around the 

place : 
I gave him a cup, and he smiled — 'twas only a boy, you 

-see ; 
Faint and worn, with dim blue eyes ; and he'd sailed on 

the Tennessee. 

Only sixteen he was, sir — a fond mother's only son — 
Oil and away with Morgan before his life had begun ! 
The damp drops stood on his temples ; drawn was the 

boyish mouth ; 
And I thought me of the mother waiting down in the 

South ! 

O, pluck was he to the backbone, and clear grit through 

and through ; 
Boasted and bragged like a trooper ; but the big words 

w^ouldn't do ; 
The boy was dying, sir, dying, as plain as plain could be. 
Worn out by his ride with Morgan up from the Tennessee. 


But, when I told the laddie that I too was from the South, 
"Water came in his dim eyes, and quivers around his mouth : 
" Do you know the Blue-Grass country ?" he wistful began 

to say ; 
Then swayed like a willow sapling, and fainted dead away. 

I had him into the log-house, and worked and brought him 

I fed him, and coaxed him, as I thought his mother'd do ; 
And, when the lad got better, and the noise in his head was 

Morgan's men were miles away, galloping, galloping on. 

" O, I must go," he muttered ; " I must be up and away ! 
Morgan, Morgan is waiting for me ! O, w^hat will Morgan 

say ?" 
But I heard a sound of tramping, and kept him back from 

the door — 
The ringing sound of horses' hoofs that I had heard 4)efo re. 

And on, on came the soldiers — the Michigan cavalry — 
And fast they rode, and black they looked, galloping 

rapidly : 
They had followed hard on Morgan's track; they had 

followed day and night ; 
But of Morgan and Morgan's raiders they had never 

caught a sight. 

And rich Ohio sat startled through all those summer days ; 

For strange, wild men were galloping over her broad high- 
ways ; 

NoAV here, now there, now seen, now gone, now north, now 
east, now west, 

Through river-valleys and corn-land farms, sweeping away 
her best. 


A bold ride and a long ride ! But they were taken at last : 
They almost reached the river by galloping hard and fast ; 
But the boys in blue were upon them ere ever they gained 

the ford, 
And Morgan, Morgan the raider, laid down his terrible 


"Well, I kept the boy till evening — kept him against his 

But he was too weak to follow, and sat there pale and still : 
When it was cool and dusky — you'll wonder to hear me 

But I stole down to that gully, and brought up Kentucky 


I kissed the star on her forehead — my pretty, gentle lass — 
But I knew that she'd be happy back in the old Blue- 
Grass : 
A suit of clothes of Conrad's, with all the money I had. 
And Kentuck, pretty Kentuck, I gave to the worn-out lad. 

I guided him to the southward as well as I knew how : 
The boy rode off with many thanks, and many a backward 

bow ; 
And then the glow it faded, and my heart began to swell. 
As down the glen away she went, my lost Kentucky Belle ! 

When Conrad came in the evening, the moon was shining 

high , 
Baby and I were both crying — I couldn't tell him why — 
But a battered suit of rebel gray was hanging on the wall, 
And a thin old horse with drooping head stood in Ken- 
tucky's stall. 


"Well, he was kind, and never once said a hard word to me ; 
He knew I couldn't help it — 'twas all for the Tennessee : 
But, after the war was over, just think what came to pass — 
A letter, sir ; and the two were safe back in the old Blue- 

The lad had got across the border, riding Kentucky Belle ; 
And Kentuck she w^as thriving, and fat, and hearty, and 

well ; 
He cared for her, and kept her, nor touched her with whip 

or spur : 
Ah ! we've had many horses, but never a horse like her ! 
Constance Fenimore Woolson. 


I KNOW not, if dark or bright 
Shall be my lot ; 
If that wherein my hopes delight 
Be best or not. 

It may be mine to drag for years 

Toil's heavy chain. 
Or day or night my meat be tears, 
^ On bed of pain. 

Dear faces may surround my hearth 

With smiles and glee, 
Or I may dwell alone, and miith 

Be strange to me. 

My bark is wafted from the strand 

By breath Divine, 
And on the helm there rests a hand 

Other than mine. 


One wlio has known in storms to sail 

I have on board ; 
Above the raging of the gale 

I have my Lord. 

He holds me when the billows smite — 

I shall not fall ; 
If sharp, 'tis short ^if long, 'tis light — 

He tempers all- 
Safe to the land ! Safe to the land ! 

The end is this — 
And then with Him go hand in hand 

Far into bliss. 

Dean Alford. 


IT was autumn. Hundreds had wended their way from 
pilgrimages ; — from Rome and its treasures of dead 
art, and its glory of living nature ; from the side of the 
Switzer's mountains, and from the capitals of various 
nations — all of them saying in their hearts, we will wait 
for the September gales to have done with their equinoctial 
fury, and then we will embark ; we will slide across the 
appeased ocean, and in the gorgeous month of October we 
will greet our longed-for native land, and our heart-loved 

And so the throng streamed along from Berlin, from Paris, 
from the Orient, converging upon London, still hastening 
toward the welcome ship, and narrowing every day the circle 
of engagements and preparations. They crowded aboard. 


Never had the Arctic borne such a host of passengei^, nor 
passengers so nearly related to so many of us. The hour 
was come. The signal-ball fell at Greenwich. It was 
noon also at Liverpool. The anchors were weighed ; the 
great hull swayed to the current ; the national colors 
streamed above, as if themselves instinct with life and 
national sympathy. The bell strikes ; the wheels revolve ; 
the signal-gun beats its echoes in upon every structure along 
the shore, and the Arctic glides joyfully forth from the 
Mersey, and turns her prow to the winding channel, and 
begins her homeward run. The pilot stood at the wheel, 
and men saw him. Death sat upon the prow, and no eye 
beheld him. Whoever stood at the wheel in all the voyage, 
Death was the pilot that steered the craft, and none knew 
it. He neither revealed his presence, nor whisj^ered his 

And so hope was effulgent, and lithe gayety disported 
itself, and joy was with every guest. Amid all the incon- 
veniences of the voyage, there was still that which hushed 
every murmur, — " Home is not far away." And every 
morning it was still one night nearer home! Eight 
days had passed. They beheld that distant bank of mist 
that forever haunts the vast shallows of Newfoundland. 
Boldly they made it ; and plunging in, its pliant wreaths 
wrapped them about. They shall never emerge. The last 
sunlight has flashed from that deck. The last voyage is 
done to ship and passengers. At noon there came noise- 
lessly stealing from the north that fated instrument of de- 
struction. In that mysterious shroud, that vast atmos- 
phere of mist, both steamers were holding their way with 
rushing prow and roaring wheels, but invisible. 

At a league's distance, unconscious ; and at nearer 
approach, unwarned ; within hail, and bearing right toward 


each other, unseen, unfelt, till in a moment more, emerging 
from the gray mists, the ill-omened Yesta dealt her deadly 
stroke to the Arctic. The death-blow was scarcely felt 
along the mighty hull. She neither reeled nor shivered. 
I^either commander nor officers deemed that they had 
suffered harm. Prompt upon humanity, the brave Luce 
(let his name be ever spoken with admiration and respect) 
ordered away his boat with the first officer to inquire if 
the stranger had suffered harm. As Gourley went over 
the ship's side, oh, that some good angel had called to the 
brave commander in the words of Paul on a like occasion, 
" Except these abide in the ship, ye cannot be saved." 

They departed, and with them the hope of the ship, for 
now the waters gaining upon the hold, and rising upon the 
fires, revealed the mortal blow. Oh, had now that stern, 
brave mate, Gourley, been on deck, whom the sailors were 
wont to mind, — had he stood to execute efficiently the com- 
mander's will, — we may believe that we should not have 
had to blush for the cowardice and recreancy of the crew, 
nor weep for the untimely dead. But, apparently, each 
subordinate officer lost all presence of mind, then courage, 
and so honor. In a wild scramble, that ignoble mob of 
firemen, engineers, waiters, and crew, rushed for the boats, 
and abandoned the helpless women, children, and men to 
the mercy of the deep ! Four hours there were from the 
catastrophe of collision to the catastrophe of sinking ! 

Oh, what a burial was here ! Not as when one is 
borne from his home, among weeping throngs, and gently 
carried to the green fields, and laid peacefully beneath the 
turf and flowers. No priest stood to pronounce a burial- 
service. It was an ocean-grave. The mists alone shrouded 
the burial-place. No spade prepared the grave, no sexton 
filled up the hollowed earth. Down, down they sank, and 


the quick returning waters smoothed out every ripple, 
and left the sea as if it had not been. 

H. ^Y. Beecher. 


HERE it comes sparkling, 
And there it lies darkling ; 

Here smoking and frothing, 

Its tumult and wrath in. 
It hastens along, conflicting, and strong, 

Now striking and raging, 

As if a war waging. 
Its caverns and rocks among. 

Rising and leaping, 

Sinking and creeping. 

Swelling and flinging. 

Showering and springing, 

Eddying and whisking, 

Spouting and frisking. 

Twining and twisting 
Around and around, — 

Collecting, disjecting, 
With endless rebound ; 

Smiting and fighting, 

A sight to delight in. 

Confounding, astounding. 
Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound. 

Receding and s|)eeding, 

* A celebrated fall on Derwent- Water, in Cumberland, England. 


And shocking and rocking, 
And Avhizzing and hissing, 
And dripping and skipping. 
And whitening and brightening, 
And quivering and shivering. 
And shining and twining, 
And rattling and battling. 
And shaking and quakiug. 
And pouring and roaring. 
And waving and raving. 
And tossing and crossing. 
And flowing and growing, 
And hurrying and skurrying, 
And dinning and spinning, 
And foaming and roaming. 
And dropping and hopping. 
And heaving and cleaving. 

And driving and riving and striving. 

And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling, 

And sounding and bounding and rounding. 

And bubbling and troubling and doubling. 

Dividing and gliding and sliding. 

And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling. 

And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming, 

And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing. 

And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping, 

And curling and whirling and purling and twirling. 

Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting, 

Delaying and straying and playing and spraying, 

Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing, 

Recoiling, turmoiling, and toiling and boiling, 

And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing ; 


And so never ending, but always descending, 
Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending, 
All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar ; — • 
And this way the water comes down at Lodore. 

Robert Southey. 


IF you cannot on the ocean 
Sail among the swiftest fleet. 
Rocking on the highest billows. 

Laughing at the storms you meet, 
You can stand among the sailors. 

Anchored yet within the bay. 
You can lend a hand to help them, 
As they launch their boats away. 

If you are too weak to journey. 

Up the mountain, steep and high, 
You can stand w^ithin the valley, 

While the multitudes go by. 
You can chant in happy measure. 

As they slowly pass along ; 
Though they may forget the singer 

They will not forget the song. 

If you have not gold and silver 

Ever ready to command, 
If you cannot toward the needy 

Reach an ever open hand, 
You can visit the afflicted, 

O'er the erring you can weep. 
You can be a true disciple. 

Sitting at the Saviour's feet. 


If you cannot in the conflict 

Prove yourself a soldier true, 
If where the fire and smoke are thickest, 

There's no work for you to do, 
When the battle-field is silent, 

You can go with careful tread, 
You can bear away the wounded. 

You can cover up the dead. 

Do not then stand idly waiting 

For some greater work to do, 
Fortune is a lazy goddess, 

She will never come to you. 
Go and toil in any vineyard, 

Do not fear to do or dare. 
If you want a field of labor. 

You can find it anvwhere. 


THIS lovely land, this glorious liberty, these benign in- 
stitutions, the dear purchase of our fathers, are ours ; 
ours to enjoy, ours to preserve, ours to transmit. Genera- 
tions past, and generations to come, hold us responsible for 
this sacred trust. Our fathers, from behind, admonish us, 
with their anxious paternal voices ; posterity calls out to 
us, from the bosom of the future ; the world turns hither 
its solicitous eyes — all, all conjure us to act wisely, and 
faithfully, in the relations which we sustain. 

AVe can never, indeed, pay the debt which is upon us ; 
but by virtue, by morality, by religion, by the cultivation 
of every good principle and every good habit, we may 
hope to enjoy the blessing through our day, and to leave it 


unimpaired to our children. Let us feel deeply how much 
of what we are, and what we possess, we owe to this 
liberty, and these institutions of government. 

Nature has, indeed, given us a soil which yields boun- 
teously to the hands of industry ; the mighty and fruitful 
ocean is before us, and the skies over our heads shed health 
and vigor. But w^hat are lands, and seas, and skies, to 
civilized man, without society, without knowledge, without 
morals, without religious culture ? And how can these be 
enjoyed, in all their extent, and all their excellence, but 
under the protection of wise institutions and a free govern- 
ment ? 

Fellow-citizens, there is not one of us here present who 
does not, at this moment, and at every moment, experience 
in his own condition, and in the condition of those most 
near and dear to him, the influence and the benefits of this 
liberty and these institutions. Let us then acknowledge 
the blessing ; let us feel it deeply and powerfully ; let us 
cherish a strong affection for it, and resolve to maintain 
and perpetuate it. The blood of our fathers, let it not 
have been shed in vain ; the great hope of posterity, let 
it not be blasted. Webster. 


rriHE train from out the castle drew, 
Jl But Marmion stopp'd to bid adieu : 

" Though something I might plain," he said, 
" Of cold respect to stranger guest. 
Sent hither by your king's behest. 

While in Tantallon's towers I stay'd, 
Part we in friendship from your land, 
And, noble Earl, receive my hand." 


But Douglas round liim drew his cloak, 
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke : 
" My manoi-s, halls, and bowers shall still 
Be open, at my sovereign's will, 
To each one whom he lists, how'er 
Unmeet to be the owner's peer. 
My castles are my king's alone, 
From turret to foundation-stone ; 
The hand of Douglas is his own, 
And never shall in friendly grasp 
The hand of such as Marmion clasp." 

Burn'd Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire. 
And shook his very frame for ire, 

And, " This to me !" he said ; 
" An 'twere not for thy hoary beard, 
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared 

To cleave the Douglas' head ! 
And, first, I tell thee, haughty Peer, 
He who does England's message here, 
Although the meanest in her State, 
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate : 
And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, 

Even in thy pitch of pride. 
Here in thy hold, thy vassals near 
(Nay, never look upon your lord. 
And lay your hands upon your sword,) 

I tell thee, thou'rt defied ! 
And, if thou said'st I am not peer 
To any lord in Scotland here. 
Lowland or Highland, far or near, 

Lord Angus, thou hast lied !" 

On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage 
O'ercame the ashen hue of age ; 


Fierce he broke forth, " And darest thou then 
To beard the lion in his den, 

The Douglas in his hall ? 
And hopest thou hence unscathed to go ? 
No, by Saint Bride of Both well, no ! 
Up drawbridge, grooms, — what, Warder, ho ! 

Let the portcullis fall." 
Lord Marmion turn'd, — well was his need ! — 
And dash'd the rowels in his steed. 
Like arrow through the archway sprung ; 
The ponderous gate behind him rung : 
To pass there was such scanty room, 
The bars, descending, razed his plume. 

The steed along the drawbridge flies, 
Just as it trembled on the rise ; 
Not lighter does the swallow skim 
Along the smooth lake's level brim ; 
And, w^hen Lord Marmion reached his band, 
He halts, and turns wath clenched hand. 
And shout of loud defiance pours, 
And shook his gauntlet at the towers. 

Sir Walter Scott. 


AMONG the beautiful pictures 
That hang on Memory's wall, 
Is one of a dim old forest, 

That seemeth best of all. 
Not for its gnarl'd oaks olden, 

Dark wdth the mistletoe ; 
Not for the violets golden 

That sprinkle the vale below ; 


Not for the milk-wliite lilies 

That lean from the fragrant ledge, 
Coquetting all day with the sunbeams, 

And stealing their golden edge ; 
Not for the vines on the upland 

Where the bright red berries rest, 
Nor the pinks, nor the pale, sweet cowslip, 

It seemeth to me the best. 

I once had a little brother 

With eyes that were dark and deep ; 
In the lap of that dim old forest. 

He lieth in peace asleep. 
Light as the down of the thistle, 

Free as the winds that blow, 
We roved there, the beautiful summers, 

The summers of long ago ; 
But his feet on the hills grew weary, 

And, one of the autumn eves, 
I made for my little brother ' 

A bed of the yellow leaves. 

Sweetly his pale arms folded 

My neck in a meek embrace. 
As the light of immortal beauty 

Silently cover'd his face ; 
And when the arrows of sunset 

Lodged in the tree-tops bright, 
He fell, in his saint-like beauty. 

Asleep by the gates of light. 

Therefore, of ail the pictures 

That hang on Memory's wall, 
The one of the dim old forest 

Seemeth the best of all. Alice Gary. 



HONOR is the subject of my story, 
I cannot tell what you and other men 
Think of this life ; but for my single self, 
I had as lief not be, as live to be 
In awe of such a thing as I myself. 
I was born free as Csesar ; so were you ; 
We both have fed as well ; and we can both 
Endure the winter's cold as well as he. 

For once, upon a raw and gusty day, 

The troubled Tiber, chafing with her shores, 

Caesar said to me — " Darest thou, Cassius, now 

Leap in with me, into this angry flood, 

And swim to yonder point ?" Upon the word, 

Accoutered as I was, I plunged in, 

And bade him follow ; so, indeed he did. 

The torrent roared, and we did buffet it ; 

"With lusty sinews, throwing it aside. 

And stemming it, with hearts of controversy. 

But ere we could arrive the point proposed, 

Csesar cried — " Help me, Cassius, or I sink." 

I, as ^neas, our great ancestor. 

Did from the flames of Troy, upon his shoulder 

The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Tiber 

Did I the tired Csesar ; and this man 

Is now become a god ; and Cassius is 

A wretched creature, and must bend his body 

If Csesar carelessly but nod on him. 

He had a fever when he was in Spain, 
And when the flt was on him, I did mark 


How he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake ; 

His coward lips did from their color fly ; 

And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, 

Did lose his luster ; I did hear him groan : 

Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans 

Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 

" Alas !" it cried — " Give me some drink, Titinius," 

As a sick girl. — Ye gods ! it doth amaze me, 

A man of such a feeble temper should 

So get the start of the majestic world. 

And bear the palm alone. 

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, 

Like a Colossus ; and we, petty men. 

Walk under his huge legs, and peep about, 

To find ourselves dishonorable graves. 

Men, at some time, are masters of their fates : 

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars. 

But in ourselves, that we are underlings. 

Brutus and Csesar ! What should be in that Caesar ? 

Why should that name be sounded more than yours ? 

Write them together : yours is as fair a name ; 

Sound them : it doth become the mouth as well ; 

Weigh them : it is as heavy : conjure with them : 

Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Csesar. 

Now, in the name of all the gods at once. 

Upon what meat doth this our Csesar feed, 

Tliat he is grown so great ? Age, thou art shamed : 

Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods. 

When went there by an age, since the great flood, 

But it was famed with more than one man ? 

When could they say, till now, that talked of Rome, 

That her wide walks encompassed but one man ? 


No^ is it Rome, indeed, and room enough, 

When there is in it but one only man. 

Oh ! you and I have heard our fathers say. 

There was a Brutus once, tl^at would have brooked 

The eternal devil, to keep his state in Rome, 

As easily as a king. Shakespeare. 


TALENT is something, but tact is everything. Talent 
is serious, sober, grave, and respectable: tact is all 
that, and more, too. It is not a sixth sense, but it is the 
life of all the five. It is the open eye, the quick ear, the 
judging taste, the keen smell, and the lively touch ; it is 
the interpreter of all riddles, the surmounter of all diffi- 
culties, the remover of all obstacles. It is useful in all 
places, and at all times ; it is useful in solitude, for it 
shows a man his way into the world ; it is useful in society, 
for it shows him his way through the world. 

Talent is power, tact is skill ; talent is weight, tact is 
momentum ; talent knows what to do, tact knows how to 
do it ; talent makes a man respectable, tact will make him 
respected ; talent is wealth, tact is ready money. For all 
the practical purposes of life, tact carries it against talent, 
ten to one. Take them to the theatre, and put them 
against each other on the stage, and talent shall produce 
you a tragedy that will scarcely live long enough to be 
condemned, while tact keeps the house in a roar, night 
after night, w^ith its successful farces. There is no want of 
dramatic talent, there is no want of dramatic tact ; but 
they are seldom together : so we have successful pieces 


whicli are not respectable, and respectable pieces which are 
not successful. 

Take them to the bar, and let them shake their learned 
curls at each other in legal rivalry. Talent sees its way 
clearly, but tact is first at its journey's end. Talent has 
many a compliment from the bench, but tact touches fees 
from attorneys and clients. Talent speaks learnedly and 
logically, tact triumphantly. Talent makes the world 
wonder that it gets on no faster, tact excites astonishment 
that it gets on so fast. And the secret is, that tact has no 
weight to carry ; it makes no false steps ; it hits the right 
nail on the head ; it loses no time ; it takes all hints, and, 
by keeping its eye on the weathercock, is ready to take 
advantage of every wind that blows. 

Take them into the church. Talent has always some- 
thing worth hearing, tact is sure of abundance of hearers ; 
talent may obtain a living, tact will make one ; talent gets 
a good name, tact a great one ; talent convinces, tact con- 
verts ; talent is an honor to the profession, tact gains honor 
from the profession. Take them to court. Talent feels 
its weight, tact finds its way ; talent commands, tact is 
obeyed ; talent is honored with aj^probation, and tact 
is blessed by preferment. 

Place them in the senate. Talent has the ear of the 
house, but tact wins its heart, and has its votes ; talent is 
fit for employment, but tact is fitted for it. Tact has a ^ 
knack of slipping into place with a sweet ^ilence and glib- 
ness of movement, as a billiard ball insinuates itself into 
the pocket. It seems to knoAV everything, without learning 
anything. It has served an invisible and extemporary 
apprenticeship ; it wants no drilling ; it never ranks in 
the awkward squad ; it has no left hand, no deaf ear, no 
blind side. It puts on no looks of wondrous wisdom, it 


has no air of profundity, but plays with the details of 
place as dexterously as a well-taught hand flourishes over 
the keys of the piano-forte. It has all the air of common- 
place, and all the force and power of genius. 

London Atlas. 


THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learn'd 
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, 
And spread the roof above them, ere he framed 
The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 
The sound of anthems, in the darkling wood, 
Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down 
And offer'd to the Mightiest solemn thanks 
And supplication. For his simple heart 
Might not resist the sacred influences 
That, from the stilly twilight of the place. 
And from the gray old trunks, that, high in heaven, 
Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 
Of the invisible breath, that sway'd at once 
All their green tops, stole over him, and bow'd 
His spirit with the thought of boundless Power 
And inaccessible Majesty. Ah, why 
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect 
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore 
Only among the crowd, and under roofs 
That our frail hands have raised ? Let me, at least, 
Here, in the shadow of the ancient wood, 
Offer one hymn ; thrice happy, if it find 
Acceptance in His ear. 

god's first temples. 249 

Father, Thy hand 
Hath reared these venerable columns : Thou 
Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down 
Upon the naked earth, and forthwith rose 
All these fair ranks of trees. They in Thy sun 
Budded, and shook their green leaves in Thy breeze, 
And shot toward heaven. The century-living crow, 
Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died 
Among their branches, till at last they stood, 
As now they stand, massy and tall and dark, 
Fit shrine for humble worshiper to hold 
Communion with his Maker. 

Here are seen 
No traces of man's pomp or pride ; no silks 
Rustle, no jewels shine, nor envious eyes 
Encounter ; no fantastic carvings show 
The boast of our vain race to change the form 
Of Thy fair works. But Thou art here ; Thou fiU'st 
The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds 
That run along the summits of these trees 
In music ; Thou art in the cooler breath, 
That, from the inmost darkness of the place, 
Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground. 
The fresh, moist ground, are all instinct with Thee. 

Here is continual worship ; Nature here, 
In the tranquillity that Thou dost love. 
Enjoys Thy presence. Noiselessly around. 
From perch to perch the solitary bird 
Passes ; and yon clear spring, that, 'midst its herbs, 
Wells softly forth, and visits the strong roots 
Of half the mighty forests, tells no tale 
Of all the good it does. 


Thou hast not left 
Thyself without a witness, in these shades, 
Of Thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace 
Are here to speak of Thee. This mighty oak, — 
By whose immovable stem I stand, and seem 
Almost annihilated, — not a prince. 
In all the proud old world beyond the deep, 
Ere wore his crown as loftily as he 
Wears the green coronal of leaves with which 
Thy hand has graced him. Xestled at his root 
Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare 
Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower, 
With scented breath, and looks so like a smile, 
Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, 
An emanation of th' indwelling life, 
A visible token of the upholding love, 
That are the soul of this wide Universe. 

My heart is awed within me when I think 
Of the great miracle that still goes on, 
In silence, round me, — the perpetual work 
Of Thy creation, finish'd, yet renew'd 
Forever. Written on Thy works I read 
The lesson of Thy own eternity. 
Lo ! all grow old and die ; bul: see, again, 
How, on the faltering footsteps of decay, 
Youth presses — ever gay and beautiful youth — 
In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees 
Wave not less proudly than their ancestors 
Moulder beneath them. 

O, there is not lost 
One of Earth's charms : upon her bosom yet, 
After the flight of untold centuries. 
The freshness of her far beginning lies, 


And yet shall lie. Life mocks the idle hate 
Of his arch enemy Death ; yea, seats himself 
Upon the sepulchre, and blooms and smiles, 
And of the triumphs of his ghastly foe 
Makes his own nourishment. For he came forth 
From Thine own bosom, and shall have no end. 
O God, when Thou 
Dost scare the world with tempests, set on fire 
The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fill, 
With all the waters of the firmament, 
The swift, dark whirlwind, that uproots the woods 
And drowns the villages ; when, at Thy call, 
Uprises the great deep, and throws himself 
Upon the continent, and overwhelms 
Its cities ; who forgets not, at the sight 
Of these tremendous tokens of Thy power, 
His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by ! 
O, from these sterner aspects of Thy face 
Spare me and mine ; nor let us need the wrath 
Of the mad, unchain'd elements, to teach 
Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate, 
In these calm shades, Thy milder majesty, 
And to the beautiful order of Thy works 
Learn to conform the order of our lives. 

W. C. Bryant. 


TRUE eloquence does not consist in speech. It cannot 
be brought from far. Labor and learning may toil for 
it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be 
marshaled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It 
must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. 


Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declama- 
tion, all may aspire after it, — they cannot reach it. It 
comes, if it comes at all, like the outbreaking of a foun- 
tain from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, 
with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught 
in the schools, the costly ornaments, and studied contriv- 
ances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their own 
lives, and the fate of their wives, their children, and their 
country hang on the decision of the hour. Then words 
have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate 
oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then feels re- 
buked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. 
Then patriotism is eloquent ; then self-devotion is eloquent. 
The clear conception, outrunning the deductions of logic, 
the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, 
speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing 
every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right on- 
ward to his object, — this, this is eloquence ; or, rather, it is 
something greater and higher than all eloquence : it is 
action, noble, sublime. Godlike action. 

Daniel Webster. 


SIR Orpheus, whom the poets have sung 
In every metre and every tongue 
Was, you may remember, a famous musician,- 
At least for a youth in his pagan condition, — 
For historians tell he played on his shell 
From morning till night, so remarkably well 
That his music created a regular spell 
On trees and stones in forest and dell ! 


"What sort of an instrument his could be 
Is really more than is known to me, — 
■ For none of the books have told, d' ye see ! 
It's very certain those heathen " swells " 
Knew nothing at all of oyster-shells, 
And it's clear Sir Orpheus never could own a 
Shell like those they make in Cremona ; 
But whatever it was, to " move the stones " 
It must have shelled out some powerful tones, 
And entitled the player to rank in my rhyme 
As the very Vieuxtemns of the very old time I 

But alas for the joys of this mutable life ! 
Sir Orpheus lost his beautiful wife, — 
Eurydice, — who vanished one day 
From Earth, in a very unpleasant way ! 
It chanced, as near as I can determine, 
Through one of those vertebrated vermin 
That lie in the grass so prettily curled, 
Waiting to " snake " you out of the world ! 
And the poets tell she went to — well — 
A place where Greeks and Komans dwell 
After they burst their-mortal shell ; 
A region that in the deepest shade is. 
And known by the classical name of Hades, — 
A different place from the terrible furnace 
Of Tartarus, down below Avernus. 

Now, having a heart uncommonly stout. 
Sir Orpheus didn't go whining about, 
Nor marry another, as you would, no doubt, 
But made up his mind to fiddle her out ! 
But near the gate he had to wait. 
For there in state old Cerberus sate. 


A three-headed dog, as cruel as Fate, 

Guarding the entrance early and late ; 

A beast so sagacious and very voracious, 

So uncommonly sharp and extremely rapacious, 

That it really may be doubted whether 

He'd have his match, should a common tether 

Unite three aldermen's heads together ! 

. But Orpheus, not in the least afraid, 
Tuned up his shell, and quickly essayed 
What could be done with a serenade. 
In short, so charming an air he played. 
He quite succeeded in overreaching 
The cunning cur, by musical teaching, 
And put him to sleep as fast as preaching ! 

And now our musical champion, Orpheus, 
Having given the janitor over to Morpheus, 
Went groping around among the ladies 
Who throng the dismal halls of Hades, 

Calling aloud 

To the shady crowd, 
In a voice as shrill as a martial fife, 
" O, tell me where in hell is my wife !" 
(A natural question, 'tis very plain. 
Although it may sound a little profane). 

" Eurydice ! Eu-ryd-i-ce !" 
He cried as loud as loud could be — 
(A singular sound, and funny withal, 
In a place where nobody rides at all !) 

" Eurydice ! Eurydice ! 
O come, my dear, along with me !" 
And then he played so remarkably fine 
That it really might be called divine,-^ 


For who can show, 
On earth or below, 
Such wonderful feats in the musical line ? 

And still Sir Orpheus chanted his song, 
Sweet and clear and strong and long, 

" Eurydice ! — Eurydice !" 
He cried as loud aS loud could be ; 
And Echo, taking up the word, 
Kept it up till the lady heard. 
And came with joy to meet her lord. 
And he led her along the infernal route, 
Until he had got her almost out. 
When, suddenly turning his head about 
(To take a peep at his wife, no doubt). 

He gave a groan. 

For the lady was gone. 
And had left him standing there all alone ! 
For by an oath the gods had bound 
Sir Orpheus not to look around 
Till he was clear of the sacred ground, 
If he'd have Eurydice safe and sound ; 
For the moment he did an act so rash 
His wife would vanish as quick as a flash ! 


Young women ! beware, for goodness' sake, 
Of every sort of " sarpent snake ;" 
Remember the rogue is apt to deceive, 
And played the deuce with Grandmother Eve ! 

Young men ! it's a critical thing to go 
Exactly right with a lady in tow ; 
But when you are in the proper track. 
Just go ahead, and never look back ! 

John G. Saxe. 



AN unlettered clergyman watnting a place 
(His manners were genial and pleasant his face), 
Received a kind letter inviting him down 
To preach to a church in a large country town. 

The town was uncultured, old-fashioned, and plain ; 
The principal business was harvesting grain, 
And none of the church-members ventured to speak 
A word of the Hebrew, or Latin, or Greek. 

For this very reason they wished all the more, 
A scholar well grounded in classical lore ; 
While a candidate might just as well stay away 
If he didn't quote Hebrew at least once a day. 

The divine about whom this odd story was told, 
By the newspaper gossips, w^as cunning and bold. 
And knowing they wished for a classical man. 
Though he didn't know Latin, he hit on a plan. 

For he thought, ''We shall see how much shrewdness 

Though I cannot read Greek, I'm a native of Wales : 
If a few Welsh expressions I cautiously use, 
It may rival the Hebrew in pleasing the pews." 

On the critical day, with exceptional grace. 
With well-attuned voice, and well-controlled face, 
He read from the Bible a passage or two. 
And remarked, " My dear friends, this translation won't 


" To be sure 'tis correct, but if beauty you seek, 
Hear the rhythmical sound of original Greek !" 
Then boldly a medley of Welsh he recited, 
And marked the effect on his hearers benighted. 

The children gazed up with a wondering stare, 
Their mothers assumed an intelligent air. 
While the deacons all nodded as much as to say, 
That Greek was by far the more excellent way. 

A still bolder venture he hazarded next. 

By a curious way of announcing the text : 

" These words, as my hearers have noticed, of course. 

Have lost nearly all their original force, 

" In the Hebrew how clearly the thought flashes out." 
And more of his Welsh he proceeded to spout ; 
When what was his horror to spy near the door 
A jolly old Welshman, just ready to roar! 

Overcome with remorse and foreseeing the shame, 
Exposure would bring to his reverend name. 
The preacher's mad impulse at first was to run. 
But the Welshman's round face so brimming with fun, 

Suggested a possible plan of escape. 

Which none but a terrified parson could shape ; 

He bravely confronted that dangerous smile. 

And coolly continued his sermon awhile. 

Till at length without showing the least agitation, 

He rallied himself for a final quotation : 

" The rendering here is decidedly wrong, 
Quite different thoughts to the Chaldee belong." 
Then Welshman in pulpit to Welshman in pew, 
In the barbarous dialect they alone knew, 


Cried, " Friend ! By the land of our fathers, I pray, 
As you hope for salvation, don't give me away !" 
The joke was so rich, the old Welshman kept still ; 
And the classical parson is preaching there still. 

H. H. Ballard, 


THEKE is sad news from Genoa. An aged and weary 
pilgrim, who can travel no farther, passes beneath the 
gate of one of her ancient palaces, saying, with pious 
resignation, as he enters its silent chambers, " Well, it is 
God's will that I shall never see Rome. I am disap- 
pointed, but I am ready to die/' The " superb," though 
fading queen of the Mediterranean holds anxious watch 
through ten long days over the majestic stranger's wasting 
frame. And now death is there,— the Liberator of Ireland 
has sunk to rest in the cradle of Columbus. 

Coincidence beautiful and most sublime ! It was the 
very day set apart by the elder daughter of the Church 
for prayer and sacrifice throughout the world for the chil- 
dren of the sacred island, perishing by famine and pesti- 
lence in their houses and in their native fields, and on 
their crowded paths of exile, on the sea and in the havens, 
and on the lakes and along the rivers of this far distant 
land. The chimes rung out by pity for his countrymen 
were O'Connell's fitting knell ; his soul went forth on 
clouds of incense that rose from altars of Christian 
charity ; and the mournful anthems which recited the 
faith, and the virtue, and the endurance of Ireland were 
his becoming requiem. 

But has not O'Connell done more than enoudi for fame? 


On the lofty brow of Monticellu, under a green old oak, is 
a block of granite, and underneath are the ashes of Jef- 
ferson. Read the epitaph, — it is the sage's claim to immor- 
tality : " Author of the Declaration of Independence, and 
of the Statute for Religious Liberty." Stop now and 
write an epitaph for Daniel O'Connell : " He gave liberty 
of conscience to Europe, and renewed the revolutions of 
the kingdoms toward universal freedom, which began in 
America and had been arrested by the anarchy of France." 

Let the statesmen of the age read that epitaph and be 
humble. Let the kings and aristocracies of the earth read 
it and tremble. Who has ever accomplished so much for 
human freedom with means so feeble ? Who but he has 
ever given liberty to a people by the mere utterance of 
his voice, without an army, navy, or revenues, — without a 
sword, a spear, or even a shield ? Who but he ever sub- 
verted tyranny, and saved the lives of the oppressed, and 
yet spared the oppressor ? Who but he ever detached from 
a venerable constitution a column of aristocracy, dashed 
it to the earth, and yet left the ancient fabric stronger 
than before ? Who but he has ever lifted up seven 
millions of people from the debasement of ages, to the 
dignity of freedom, without exacting an ounce of gold, or 
wasting the blood of one human heart ? 

Whose voice yet lingers like O'Connell's in the ear of 
tyrants, making them sink with fear of change; and in 
the ear of the most degraded slaves on earth, awaking 
hopes of freedom? Who before him has brought the 
schismatics of two centuries together, conciliating them 
at the altar of universal liberty? Who but he ever 
brought Papal Rome and Protestant America to burn 
incense together? It was O'Connell's mission to teach 
mankind that Liberty was not estranged from Christianity, 


as was proclaimed by revolutionary France ; that she was 
not divorced from law and public order ; that she was not 
a demon like Moloch, requiring to be propitiated with the 
blood of human sacrifice ; that democracy is the daughter 
of peace, and, like true religion, worketh by love. 

W. H. Seward. 


IS there, for honest poverty, 
That hangs his head, and a' that ? 
The coward-slave, we pass him by, 
And dare be poor, for a' that ! 
For a' that, and a' that, 

Our toils obscure, and a' that ; 

The rank is but the guinea's stamp ; 

The man's the gowd for a' that. 

"What tho' on hamely fare we dine. 
Wear hodden-gray, and a' that ; 
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, 
A man's a man, for a' that. 
For a' that, and a' that. 

Their tinsel show, and a' that ; 
The honest man, tho' ne'er sae poor, 
Is king o' men for a' that. 

Ye see yon birkie, ca'ed a lord, 

Wha struts, and stares, and a' that. 

Tho' hundreds worship at his word, 
He's but a coof for a' that : 


For a' that, and a' that, 

His riband, star, and a' that. 
The man of independent mind. 

He looks and laughs at a' that. 

A king can mak a belted knight, 
A marquis, duke, and a' that ; 
But an honest man's aboon his might, 
Guid faith, he maunna fa' that ! 
For a' that, and a' that. 

Their dignities, and a' that. 
The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, 
Are higher rank than a' that. 

Then let us pray that come it may, 

As come it will for a' that. 
That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, 
May bear the gree, and a' that ; 
For a' that, and a' that ; 

It's coming yet, for a' that ; 
When man to man, the warld o'er. 
Shall brothers be for a' that. 

Robert Burns. 


From the Atlantic Monthly. 

" I^OPvEOWAY hills are grand to see, 

-^ Norroway vales are broad and fair : 
Any monarch on earth might be 

Contented to find his kingdom there !" 
So spake Harold Haardrade, bold, 
To Olaf, his brother, with beard red-gold. 


*' A bargain !" cried Olaf : " Beside the strand 

Our sliijTS rock idle. Come, sail away ! 
Who first shall win to our native land, 
He shall be king of old Norroway." 

Quoth Harold, the stern : " My vessel for thine, 
I will not trust to this laggard of mine." 

" Take thou my Dragon with silken sails," 

Said Olaf, " The Ox shall be mine in place. 
If it pleases our Lord to send me gales, 
In either vessel I'll win the race. 
With this exchange ar't satisfied ?" 
" Ay, brother," the crafty one replied. 

King Olaf strode to the church to pray 

For blessing of God on crew and ship ; 

But Harold, the traitor, made haste to weigh 

His anchor, and out of the harbor slip. 

" Pray !" laughed Harold Haardrade, " pray ! 
The wind's in my favor, let sail ! Away !" 

As Olaf knelt by the chancel rail, 

Down the broad aisle came one in haste. 
With panting bosom and cheeks all pale ; 
Straight to King Olaf 's side he paced : 

" Oh ! waste no time in praying," cried he, 
" For Harold already is far at sea !" 

But Olaf answered : " Let sail who will, 

Without God's blessing I shall not go." 
Beside the altar he tarried still, 

While the good priest chanted soft and low ; 
And Olaf prayed the Lord in his heart, 
" I shall win yet if Thou take my part !" 


Cheerily then he leaped on board ; 

High on the prow he took his stand ; 
" Forward !" he bade, " In the Dame of the Lord !" 
Held the white horn of the Ox in his hand : 
" Now, Ox, good Ox, I pray thee speed 
As if to pasture in clover mead !" 

The huge Ox rolled from side to side, 

And merrily out of the harbor sjied. 
" Dost see the Dragon ?" King Olaf cried 
To the lad who clung to the high mast-head. 
" Not so !" the watcher swift answer gave, 
" There is never a boat upon the wave." 

Onward, then, for a league and twain, 

Right in the teeth of the wind they flew. 
" See'st aught of the Dragon upon the main ?" 
" Something to landward sure I view ! 
Far ahead I can just behold 
Silken sails with a border of gold." 

The third time Olaf called with a frown : 

" Dost see my Dragon yet ? Ho ! Say !" 

Out of the mast-head the cry came down : 

" Nigh to the shores of Norroway 

The go6d ship Dragon rides full sail, 

Driving ahead before the gale !" 

" Ho ! to the haven !" King Olaf cried. 

And smote the eye of the Ox with his hand. 
It leaped so madly along the tide 

That never a sailor on deck could stand ; 
But Olaf lashed them firm and fast. 
With trusty cords, to the strong oak mast. 


" Now, who," the helmsman said, " will guide 

The vessel upon the tossing sea ?" 
" That will I do !" King Olaf cried, 

" And no man's life shall be lost through me." 
Like a living coal his dark eye glowed. 
As swift to the helmsman's place he strode. 

Looking neither to left nor right, 

Tow^ard the land he sailed right in, 
Steering straight as a line of light ; 
" So must I run if I would win ; 

Faith is stronger than hills or rocks, 
Over the land speed on, good Ox I" 

Into the valleys the waters rolled ; 

Hillocks and meadows disappeared ; 
Grasping the helm in his iron hold, 
On, right onward, St. Olaf steered ; 
High and higher the blue waves rose ; 
" On !" he shouted, " no time to lose !" 

Swifter and swifter across the foam 

The quivering Ox leaped over the track, 
Till Olaf came to his boyhood's home ; 
Then, fast as it rose, the tide fell back, 

And Olaf was king of the w^hole Norseland, 
When Harold, the third day, reached the strand. 

Such was the sailing of Olaf, the king, 

Monarch and saint of Norroway ; 
In view of whose wondrous prospering. 
The Norse have a saying unto this day : 
" As Harold Haardrade found to his cost, 
Time spent in praying is never lost !" 

Alice Williams Brotherton. 



SINK or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my 
hand and my heart to this vote. It is true, indeed, 
that in the beginning we aimed not at independence. But 
there's a Divinity which shapes our ends. The injustice 
of England has driven us to arms ; and, blinded to her 
own interest, for our good, she has obstinately persisted, till 
independence is now within our grasp. We have but to 
reach forth to it, and it is ours. Why then should we 
defer the Declaration? Is any man so weak as now to 
hope for a reconciliation with England, which shall leave 
either safety to the country and its liberties, or safety to 
his own life and his own honor ? Are not you, sir, who sit 
in that chair, is not he, our venerable colleague near you, 
are you not both already the proscribed and predestined 
objects of punishment and of vengeance ? Cut off from 
all hope of royal clemency, what are you, what can you be, 
while the power of England remains, but outlaws ? If we 
postpone independence, do we mean to carry on or to give 
up the war ? Do we mean to submit and consent that we 
ourselves shall be ground to powder, and our country and 
its rights trodden down in the dust ? I know we do not 
mean to submit. We never shall submit. Do we intend 
to violate that most solemn obligation ever entered into by 
men, that plighting before God, of our sacred honor to 
Washington when, putting him forth to incur the dangers 
of war as well as the political hazards of the times, we 
promised to adhere to him, in every extremity, with our 
fortunes and our lives? I know there is not a man here 
who would not rather see a general conflagratiun sweep 


over the land or an earthquake sink it, than one jot or 
tittle of that plighted faith fall to the ground. The war, 
then, must go on. We must fight it through. And if the 
war must go on, why put off longer the Declaration of In- 
dependence ? That measure will strengthen us. It will 
give us character abroad. 

If we fail it can be no worse for us. But we shall not 
fail. The cause will raise up armies ; the cause will create 
navies. The people, the people, if we are true to them, 
will carry us, and will carry themselves, gloriously through 
this struggle. I care not how fickle other people have been 
found. I know the people of these colonies, and I know 
that resistance to British aggression is deep and settled in 
their hearts, and cannot be eradicated. Every colony, in- 
deed, has expressed its willingness to follow, if we but take 
the lead. Sir, the Declaration will inspire the people with 
increased courage. Instead of a long and bloody war for 
restoration of privileges, for redress of grievances, for 
chartered immunities, held under a British King, set be- 
fore them the glorious object of entire independence, and it 
will breathe into them anew the breath of life. Read this 
Declaration at the head of the army ; every sword will be 
drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow uttered to 
maintain it, or to perish on the bed of honor. Publish it 
from the pulpit ; religion will approve, it, and the love of 
religious liberty Avill cling round it, resolved to stand with 
it or f^U with it. Send it to the public halls ; proclaim it 
there ; let them hear it who heard the first roar of the 
enemy's cannon ; let them see it, who saw their brothers 
and their sons fall on the field of Bunker Hill, and in the 
streets of Lexington and Concord, and the very walls will 
cry out in its support. 

Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs, but I 


see, I see clearly, through this day's business. You and I 
indeed may rue it. We may not live to the time when 
this Declaration shall be made good. We may die ; die 
colonists ; die slaves ; die, it may be, ignominiously and on 
the scaffold. Be it so. Be it so. If it be the pleasure of 
Heaven that my country shall require the poor offering of 
my life, the victim shall be ready at the appointed hour of 
sacrifice, come when that hour may. But while I do live, 
let me have a country, or at least the hope of a country, 
and that a free country. 

But whatever may be our fate, be assured, be assured, 
that this Declaration will stand. It may cost treasure, 
and it may cost blood ; but it will stand and it will richly 
compensate for both. Through the thick gloom of the 
present, I see the brightness of the future as the sun in 
heaven. We shall make this a glorious, an immortal day. 
When we are in our graves our children Avill honor it. 
They will celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivity, 
with bonfires, and illuminations. On its annual return 
they will shed tears, copious, gushing tears, not of subjec- 
tion and slavery, not of agony and distress, but of 
exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, before God, I 
believe the hour is come. My judgment approves this 
measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that I have, 
and all that I am, and all that I hope in this life, I am 
now ready here to stake upon it ; and I leave off, as I 
begun, that, live or die, survive or perish, I am for the 
Declaration. It is my living sentiment, and, by the bless- 
ing of God, it shall be my dying sentiment — independence 
now ; and independence forever ! 

Daniel Webster. 



IT was out on the Western frontier — 
The miners, rugged and brown, 
Were gathered around the posters ; 

The circus had come to town ! 
The great tent shone in the darkness. 

Like a wonderful palace of light, 
And rough men crowded the entrance — 
Shows didn't come there every night ! 

Not a woman's face among them ; 

Many a face that was bad, 
And some that were only vacant, 

And some that were very sad. 
And behind a canvas curtain, 

In a corner of the place 
The Clown, with chalk and vermillion, 

Was " making up " his face. 

A weary looking woman. 

With a smile that still was sweet, 
Sewed on a little garment, 

With a cradle at her feet. 
Pantaloon stood ready and waiting. 

It was time for the going on, 
But the Clown in vain searched wildly ; 

The " property-baby " was gone ! 

He murmured impatiently hunting ; 

" It's strange that I cannot find — 
There ! I've looked in every corner ; 

It must have been left behind :" 


The miners were stamping and shouting, 

They were not patient men. 
The Clown bent over the cradle — 

" I must take you, little Ben !" 

The mother started and shivered, 

But trouble and want were near ; 
She lifted her baby gently, 

" You'll be very careful, dear ?" 
" Careful ? You foolish darling — " 

How tenderly it was said ! 
What a smile shone through the chalk and paint- 

" Why, I love each hair of his head !" 

The noise rose with an uproar, 

Misrule for the time was king ; 
The Clown with a foolish chuckle. 

Bolted into the ring — 
But as, with a squeak and flourish 

The fiddles closed their tune, 
" You'll hold him as if he were made of glass," 

Said the Clown to Pantaloon. 

The jovial fellow nodded ; 

" I've a couple myself," he said, 
" I know how to handle 'em, bless you I 

Old fellow, go ahead !" 
The fun grew fast and furious. 

And not one of all the crowd 
Had guessed that the baby was alive, 

When he suddenly crowed aloud. 

Oh that baby laugh ! It was echoed 

From the benches with a ring, 
And the roughest customer there sprung up 

With " Boys, it's the real thing !" 


The ring was jammed in a minute, 
Not a man that did not strive 

For " a shot at holding the baby " — 
The baby that was " alive !" 

He was thronged by kneeling suitors 

In the midst of the dusty ring, 
And he held his court right royally, — 

The fair little baby-king, — 
Till one of the shouting courtiers, 

A man with a bold, hard face. 
The talk, for miles, of the country, 

And the terror of the place, 

Kaised the little king to his shoulder, 
. ^ And chuckled, " Look at that !" 

As the chubby fingers clutched his hair, 

Then, " Boys, hand round the hat !" 
There never was such a hatful 

Of silver and gold and notes. 
People are not always penniless 

Because they don't wear coats ! 

And then, " Three cheers for the baby !" 

I tell you those cheers were meant, 
And the way in which they were given 

Was enough to raise the tent. 
And then there was sudden silence. 

And a gruff old miner said, 
" Come, boys, enough of this rumpus ! 

It's time it was put to bed." 

'So, looking a little sheepish. 

But with faces strangely bright. 
The audience, somewhat lingeringly, 
Flocked out into the night. 


And the bold-faced leader chuckled 

" He wasn't a bit afraid ! 
He's as game as he is good looking — 

Boys, that was a show that paid !" 


GRANT is one of the few men in history who did more 
than was expected. Some men excite great expecta- 
tion by the brilliancy of their preparations ; but this quiet, 
meditative, undemonstrative man exceeded all expectations 
by doing more than he had promised, and by doing what 
- all others had failed to do. Others had done their best 
with a conscientiousness worthy of all praise ; they had 
worked up to their maximum strength and accomplished 
much ; they had contributed largely to the final victory, 
and shall receive well of their country. It was no fault 
of theirs if nature had not endowed them for the 
ultimate achievement. But this man, pre-eminent by the 
happy combination of both nature and Providence, rose 
superior in the supreme moment, forced all things to do 
his bidding, and thus led the way to victory. 

His latent resources seemed inexhaustible. Was Fort 
Donelson esteemed impregnable ? It yielded to his com- 
mand for an immediate and "unconditional surrender." 
Did Vicksburg defy his sixth plan of capture? His 
seventh plan was a success. Did Richmond hurl defiance 
at all previous attempts ? His final effort Avas a triumph, 
and over the doomed capital of the Confederacy triumph- 
antly floated the flag of the Union. 


But whence the secret of the power of this one life on 
the thought of the world and the love of mankind ? " 

Others have insured for themselves imperishable re- 
nown for their martial prowess, for their profound states- 
manship, for the display of their marv^elous intellects ; but 
where in all the annals of the earth and time shall we find 
another who more than he stamped all that he said and all 
that he did with such purity and loftiness of character? 
His individuality was most intense. This was the source 
of his strength, the power of his action, the glory of his 
achievements. He was never other than himself. He 
acted with a spontaneity all his own. 

And what were the elements of that character, so unique, 
symmetrical, and now immortal ? God had endowed him 
with an extraordinary intellect. For forty years he was 
hidden in comparative obscurity, giving no indications of 
his wondrous capacity ; but in those four decades he was 
maturing, and at the appointed time God lifted the veil of 
obscurity, called upon him to save a nation and give a new 
direction to the civilization of the world. How calm his 
judgment, how clean and quick and accurate his imagina- 
tion, how vast and tenacious his memory ! 

From this better nature and higher mission as a warrior 
sprang his conduct toward the vanquished. He had no 
hatred in his heart. His heart was as tender as a woman's. 
He was not vindictive. His holy evangel to the nation 
was, " Let us have peace." Hence, toward the close of the 
war, those who had fought against him saw that there was 
no safety but in the arms of their conqueror. In his 
dying chamber he grasped the hand of him whose sword 
was the first he had won, and said : " I have witnessed 
since my sickness just what I wished to see ever since the 
war — harmony and good feeling between the sections." 

"bay billy." 273 

Such is the character of the true conqueror. Only such 
live in the grateful recollections of mankind. Away with 
heroes without humanity ! They may force our respect and 
seduce our admiration, but they can never win our love. 
God planted goodness in man as the image of Himself. 
Greatness should spring from goodness. This is the price 
of hearts. Away with your Alexanders and Csesars and 
Tamerlanes ! Let them be to our Christian civilization 
what the gigantic monsters of a departed period are in 
zoological history — types of an inferior age. In the on- 
coming centuries mankind will honor only those who drew 
the sword in defense of human rights and in support of the 
constitutional authority. Then, All hail, Mount Vernon ! 
Then, All hail, Mount McGregor ! 

J. P. Newman. 


'rpWAS the last fight at Fredericksburg- 

-L Perhaps the day you reck. 
Our boys, the Twenty-second Maine, 

Kept Early's men in check. 
Just where Wade Hampton boomed away 
The fight went neck and neck. 

All day we held the weaker wing. 

And held it with a will ; 
Five several stubborn times we charged 

The battery on the hill, 
And five times beaten back, reformed. 

And kept our columns still. 


At last from out the centre fight 

Spurred up a General's Aid. 
" That battery must silenced be !" 

He cried, as past he sped. 
Our Colonel simply touched his cap, 

And then, with measured tread. 

To lead the crouching line once more 

The grand old fellow came. 
No wounded man but raised his head 

And strove to gasp his name, 
And those who could not speak nor stir, 

" God blessed him " just the same. 

For he was all the world to us. 

That hero gray and grim ; 
Right well he knew that fearful slope 

We'd climb with none but him, 
Though while his white head led the way 

We'd charge hell's portals in. 

This time we were not half way up. 
When, midst the storm of shell, 

Our leader, with his sword upraised, 
Beneath our bay'nets fell. 

And, as we bore him back, the foe 
Set up a joyous yell. 

Our hearts went with him. Back we swept, 

And when the bugle said, 
" Up, charge again !" no man was there 

But hung his dogged head. 
** We've no one left to lead us now," 

The sullen soldiers said. 

"bay billy." 275 

Just then, before the laggard line 
The Colonel's horse we spied — 

Bay Billy, Avith his trappings on, 
His nostril swelling wide. 

As though still on his gallant back 
The master sat astride. 

Right royally he took the place 
That was of old his wont. 

And with a neigh, that seemed to say 
Above the battle's brunt, 

" How can the Twenty-second charge 
If I am not in front ?" 

Like statues we stood rooted there, 

And gazed a little space ; 
Above the floating mane we missed 

The dear familiar face ; 
But we saw Bay Billy's eye of fire. 

And it gave us heart of grace. 

No bugle call could rouse us all 
As that brave sight had done ; 

DoAvn all the battered line we felt 
A lightning impulse run ; 

Up, up the hill we followed Bill, 
And captured every gun ! 

And when upon the conquered height 
Died out the battle's hum, 

Vainly 'mid living and the dead 
We sought our leader dumb ; 

It seemed as if a spectre steed 
To win that day had come. 


At last the morning broke. The lark 

Sang in the merry skies 
As if to e'en the sleepers there 

It said, Awake, arise ! 
Though naught but that last trump of all 

Could ope their heavy eyes. 

And then once more, with banners gay. 
Stretched out the long brigade ; 

Trimly upon the furroAved field 
The troops stood on parade. 

And brarely 'mid the ranks were closed 
The gaps the fight had made. 

Not half the Twent}^-second's men 
Were in their place that morn, 

And Corp'ral Dick, who yester-noon 
Stood six brave fellows on, 

!N"ow touched my elbow in the ranks. 
For all betAveen were gone. 

Ah ! who forgets that dreary hour 

When, as with misty eyes. 
To call the old familiar roll 

The solemn Sergeant tries — 
One feels that thumping of the heart 

As no prompt voice replies. 

And as in faltering tone and slow 
The last few names were said, 

Across the field some missing horse 
Toiled up with weary tread. 

It caught the Sergeant's eye, and quick 
Bay Billy's name was read. 


Yes ! there the old bay hero stood, 

All safe from battle's harms, 
And ere an order could be heard, 

Or the bugle's quick alarms, 
Down all the front, from end to end. 

The troops presented arms ! 

Not all the shoulder straps on earth 

Could still our mighty cheer. 
And ever from that famous day, 

When rang the roll-call clear. 
Bay Billy's name was read, and then 

The whole line answered " Here !" 

Frank H. Gassaway. 


SOME words on language may be well applied. 
And take them kindly, though they touch your pride ; 
Words lead to things ; a scale is more precise, — 
Coarse speech, bad grainmar, swearing, drinking, vice. 

Our cold northeaster's icy fetter clips 
The native freedom of the Saxon lips ; 
See the brown peasant of the plastic South, 
How all his passions play about his mouth ! 
With us, the feature that transmits the soul, 
A frozen, passive, palsied breathing-hole. 

The crampy shackles of the ploughboy's walk 
Tie the small muscles when he strives to talk ; 
Not all the pumice of the polished town 
Can smooth this roughness of the barnyard down ; 


Rich, honored, titled, he betrays his race 
By this one mark, — he's awkward in the face ; — 
Nature's rude impress, long before he knew 
The sunny street that holds the sifted few. 

It can't be helped, though, if we're taken young, 
We gain some freedom of the lips and tongue ; 
But school and college often try in vain 
To break the padlock of our boyhood's chain ; 
One stubborn word will prove this axiom true ; 
No quondam rustic can enunciate view. 

A few brief stanzas may be well employed 
To speak of errors we can all avoid. 
Learning condemns beyond the reach of hope 
The careless churl who speaks of soap for soap ; 
Her edict exiles from her fair abode 
The clownish voice that utters road for road ; 
Less stern to him who calls his coat a coat, 
And steers his boat, believing it a boat. 
She pardoned one, our classic city's boast. 
Who said, at Cambridge, most instead of most ; 
But knit her brows, and stamp'd her angry foot, 
To hear a teacher call a root a root. 

Once more ; speak clearly, if you speak at all ; 

Carve every word before you let it fall ; 

Don't, like a lecturer or dramatic star, 

Try over-hard to roll the British R ; 

Do put your accents in the proper spot ; 

Don't — let me beg you — don't say " How ?" for " What ?" 

And, when you stick on conversation's burs, 

Don't strew the pathway with those dreadful urs. 

0. W. Holmes. 



TTNWARMED by any sunset light 
^ The gray day darkened into night, 
A night made hoary with the swarm 
And whirl-dance of the blinding storm, 
As zigzag wavering to and fro 
Crossed and recrossed the winged snow : 
And ere the early bed-time came 
The white drift piled the window-frame, 
And through the glass the clothes-line posts 
Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts. 

So all night long the storm roared on : 

In starry flake, and pellicle. 

And, when the second morning shone, 

We looked upon a world unknown. 

On nothing we could call our own. 

Around the glistening wonder bent 

The blue walls of the firmament. 

No cloud above, no earth below, — 

A universe of sky and snow ! 

The old familiar sights of ours 

Took marvelous shapes ; strange domes and towers 

Rose up where sty or corn-crib stood. 

Or garden wall, or belt of wood ; 

A smooth white mound the brush-pile showed, 

A fenceless drift what once was road ; 

The bridle-post an old man sat 

With loose-flung coat and high cocked hat ; 

The well-curb had a Chinese roof; 

And even the long sweep, high aloof, 


In its slant splendor, seemed to tell 
Of Pisa's leaning miracle. 

A prompt, decisive man, no breath 
Our father wasted : " Boys, a path !" 
Well pleased, (for when did farmer boy 
Count such a summons less than joy ?) 
Our buskins on our feet we drew ; 

With mittened hands, and caps drawn low, 
To guard our necks and ears from snow, 
We cut the solid whiteness through. 
And, where the drift was deepest, made 
A tunnel walled and overlaid 
With dazzling crystal ; we had read 
Of rare Aladdin's wondrous cave. 
And to our own his name we gave, 
With many a wish the luck were ours 
To test his lamp's supernal powers. 
We reached the barn with merry din, 
And roused the prisoned brutes within. 

All day the gusty north-wind bore 
The loosening drift its breath before ; 
Low circling round its southern zone. 
The sun through dazzling snow-mist shone. 
No church-bell lent its Christian tone 
To the savage air, no social smoke 
Curled over woods of snow-hung oak. 
As night drew on, and, from the crest 
Of wooded knolls that ridged the west, 
The sun, a snow-blown traveler, sank 
From sight beneath the smothering bank. 
We piled, with care, our nightly stack 
Of wood against the chimney-back, — 


The oaken log, green, huge, and thick, 
And on its top the stout back stick ; 
The knotty forestick laid apart. 
And filled between with curious art 
The ragged brush ; then, hovering near, 
We watched the first red blaze appear, 
Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam 
On whitewashed wall and sagging beam, 
Until the old, rude-furnished room 
Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom ; 
While radiant with a mimic flame 
Outside the sparkling drift became, 
And through the bare-boughed lilac-tree 
Our own w^arm hearth seemed blazing free. 

J. G. Whittier. 


BUNYAN is almost the only writer that ever gave to 
the abstract the interest of the concrete. In the 
works of many celebrated authors men are mere personifi- 
cations. We have not an Othello, but jealousy ; not an 
lao-o, but perfidy ; not a Brutus, but patriotism. The 
mind of Bunyan, on the contrary, was so imaginative that 
personifications, when he dealt with them, became men. A 
dialogue between two qualities, in his dream, has more 
dramatic effect than a dialogue between two human beings 
in most plays. 

The style of Bunyan is delightful to every reader, and 
invaluable as a study to every person who wishes to obtain 
a wide command over the English language. The vocabu- 
lary is the vocabulary of the common people. There is 


not an expression, if we except a few technical terms of 
theology, which would puzzle the rudest peasant. We 
have observed several pages Avhich do not contain a single 
word of more than two syllables. Yet no writer has said 
more exactly what he meant to say. For magnificence, 
for pathos, for vehement exhortation, for subtile disquisi- 
tion, for every purpose of the poet, the orator, and the divine, 
this homely dialect, the dialect of plain workingmen, was 
perfectly sufficient. There is no book in our literature on 
which we would so readily stake the fame of the old un- 
polluted English language ; no book which shows so well 
how rich that language is, in its own proper wealth, and 
how little it has been improved by all that it has borrowed. 
Cowj)er said, fifty or sixty years ago, that he dared not 
name John Bunyan in his verse for fear of moving a sneer. 
We live in better times ; and we are not afraid to say, that 
though there were many clever men in England during 
the latter half of the seventeenth century, there were 
only two great creative minds. One of these produced 
the " Paradise Lost," the other the " Pilgrim's Progress." 



YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the West ! 
Through all the wide border his steed was the best ; 
And, save his good broadsword, he weapons had none ; 
He rode all unarmed and he rode all alone. 
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. 

He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone ; 
He swam the Eske river where ford there was none ; 

lochinvar's ride. 283 

But, ere lie alighted at Netherby gate, 
The bride had consented — the gallant came late ; 
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, 
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. 

So boldly he entered the Netherby hall, 

Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all. 

Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword — 

For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word — 

" O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, 

Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?" 

" I long wooed your daughter ; — my suit you denied ; 
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide ; 
And now I am come, with this lost love of mine 
To lead but one measure — drink one cup of wine. 
There be maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far. 
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar." 

The bride kissed the goblet ; the knight took it up ; 
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup ; 
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, 
With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye ; 
He took her soft hand ere her mother could bar ; — 
" Now^ tread we a measure ?" said young Lochinvar. 

So stately his form and so lovely her face, 
That never a hall such a galliard did grace ; 
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, 
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume, 
And the bridemaidens whispered, " 'Twere better, by far. 
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." 

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear. 
When they reached 'the hall door, where the charger stood 
near ; 


So light to the croup the fair lady he swung, 

So light to the saddle before her he sprung ; 

" She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ; 

They'll have fleet steeds that follow !" quoth young Loch- 

There was mounting 'mong Grsemes of the Netherby clan ; 
Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they 

ran ; 
There was racing and chasing on Cannobie lea. 
But the lost bride of ISTetherby ne'er did they see. 
So daring in love, and so dauntless in Avar, 
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ? 

Sir Walter Scott. 


Translated from, the German of Jean Paul Rlchter. 

IT was New Year's night. An aged man was standing 
at a window. He raised his mournful eyes toward the 
deep blue sky, where the stars were floating, like white 
lilies, on the surface of a clear, calm lake. Then he cast 
them on the earth, where few more hopeless beings than 
himself now moved toward their certain goal — the tomb. 

Already he had passed sixty of the stages which lead to 
it, and he had brought from his journey nothing but 
errors and remorse. His health was destroyed, his mind 
vacant, his heart sorrowful, and his old age devoid of 

The days of his youth rose up in a vision before him, 
and he recalled the solemn moment when his father had 
placed him at the entrance of two roads, — one leading 


into a peaceful, sunny land, covered with a fertile harvest, 
and resounding with soft, sweet songs ; while the other 
conducted the wanderer into a deep, dark cave, whence 
there was no issue, where poison flowed instead of water, 
and where serpents hissed and crawled. 

He looked toward the sky, and cried out in his agony : 
" O youth, return ! O my father, place me once more at the 
entrance to life, that I may choose the better way !" But 
the days of his youth and his father had both passed away. 

He saw wandering lights floating away over dark 
marshes, and then disappear. These were the days of his 
wasted life. He saw a star fall from heaven, and vanish 
in darkness. This was an emblem of himself; and the 
sharp arrows of unavailing remorse struck home to his 
heart. Then he remembered his early companions, who 
entered on life with him, but who, having trod the paths 
of virtue and of labor, were now honored and happy on 
this New Year's night. 

The clock, in the high church tower, struck, and the 
sound, falling on his ear, recalled his parents' early love 
for him, their erring son ; the lessons they had taught him ; 
the prayers they had oflered up on his behalf. Over- 
w^helmed with shame and grief, he dared no longer look 
toward that heaven where his father dwelt ; his darkened 
eyes dropped tears, and with one despairing effort he cried 
aloud : " Come back, my early days ! come back !" 

And his youth did return, for all this was but a dream 
which had visited his slumbers on New Year's night. He 
w^as still young ; his faults alone were real. He thanked 
God fervently that time was still his own ; that he had not 
yet entered the deep, dark cavern, but that he was free to 
tread the road leading to the peaceful land where sunny 
harvests wave. 


Ye who still linger on the threshold of life, doubting 
which path to choose, remember that, when years are 
passed, and your feet stumble on the dark mountain, you 
will cry bitterly, but cry in vain : " O youth, return ! 



OUT of the North the wild news came, 
Far flashing on its wings of flame. 
Swift as the boreal light which flies 
At midnight through the startled skies. 
And there was tumult in the air, 

The fife's shrill note, the drum's loud beat, 
And through the wide land everywhere 

The answering tread of hurrying feet ; 
While the first oath of Freedom's gun 
Came on the blast from Lexington ; 
And Concord roused, no longer tame, 
Forgot her old baptismal name, 
Made bare her patriot arm of power. 
And swelled the discord of the hour. 

Within its shade of elm and oak 

The church of Berkley Manor stood, 
There Sunday found the rural folk. 

And some esteemed of gentle blood. 

In vain their feet with loitering tread 
Passed mid the graves where rank is naught. 
All could not read the lesson taught 

In that republic of the dead. 


How sweet the hour of Sabbath talk, 

The vale with peace and sunshine full, 
Wliere all the happy people walk, 

Decked in their homespun flax and wool ; 

Where youth's gay hats with blossoms bloom ; 
And every maid, with simple art, 
Wears on her breast, like her own heart, 

A bud whose depths are all perfume ; 
While every garment's gentle stir 
Is breathing rose and lavender. 

The pastor came ; his snowy locks 

Hallowed his brow of thought and care ; 

And calmly, as shepherds lead their flocks, 
He led into the house of prayer. 

Then soon he rose ; the prayer was strong ; 

The Psalm was warrior David's song ; 

The text, a few short words of might — 
** The Lord of hosts shall arm the right /" 

He spoke of wrongs too long endured, 

Of sacred rights to be secured ; 

Then from his patriot tongue of flame 
The startling words for Freedom came. 
The stirring sentences he spake 
Compelled the heart to glow or quake. 
And, rising on the theme's broad wing. 

And grasping in his nervous hand 

The imaginary battle-brand. 
In face of death ha dared to fling 
Defiance to a tyrant king. 

Even as he spoke, his frame, renewed 
In eloquence of attitude. 


Rose, as it seemed, a shoulder higher ; 
Then swept his kindling glance of fire 
From startled pew to breathless choir ; 
When suddenly his mantle wide 
His hands impatient flung aside, 
And, lo ! he met their wondering eyes 
Complete in all a warrior's guise. 

A moment there was awful pause — 

"When Berkley cried, " Cease, traitor ! cease ! 

God's temple is the house of peace !" 

The other shouted, " Nay, not so, 
"When God is with our righteous cause ; 
His holiest places then are ours. 
His temples are our forts and towers 

That frown upon the tyrant foe ; 
In this, the dawn of Freedom's day, 
There is a time to fight and pray !" 

And now before the open door — 

The warrior priest had ordered so — 
The enlisting trumpet's sudden roar 
Rang through the chapel, o'er and o'er, 
Its long reverberating blow. 

So loud and clear, it seemed the ear 
Of dusty death must wake and hear. 
And there the startling drum and fife 
Fired the living w^ith fiercer life ; 
While overhead, with wild increase, 
Forgetting its ancient toll of peace. 

The great bell swung as ne'er before. 
It seemed as it would never cease ; 


And every word its order flung 
From off its jubilant iron tongue 
Was, " War 1 War ! WAR !" 

" Who dares ?" — this was the patriot's cry, 

As striding from the desk he came — 
" Come out with me, in Freedom's name, 

For her to live, for her to die !" 

A hundred hands flung up reply, 

A hundred voices answered, " I !" 

Thomas Buchanan Read. 


SEATED one day at the organ, 
I v/as weary and ill at ease, 
And my fingers wander'd idly 
Over the noisy keys. 

I do not know what I was playing. 
Or what I was dreaming then. 

But I struck one chord of music. 
Like the sound of a great Amen. 

It flooded the crimson twilight, 
Like the close of an angel's psalm, 

And it lay on my fevered spirit, 
With a touch of infinite calm. 

It quieted pain and sorrow. 
Like love overcoming strife ; 

It seem'd the harmonious echo 
From our discordant life. 



It link'd all perplex'd meanings 

Into one perfect peace, 
And trembled away into silence, 

As if it were loth to cease. 

I have sought, but I seek it vainly, 

That one lost chord divine. 
That came from the soul of the organ, 

And enter'd into mine. 

It may be that Death's bright angel 
Will speak in that chord again ; 

It may be that only in Heaven 
I shall hear that grand Amen. 

Adelaide Anne Proctor. 


THESE abominable principles, and this more abominable 
avowal of them, demand the most decisive indigna- 
tion ! I call upon that Right Reverend Bench, those holy 
ministers of the Gospel, and pious pastors of our Church ; 
I conjure them to join in the holy work, and to vindicate 
the religion of their God ! I appeal to the wisdom and 
the law of this learned Bench, to defend and support the 
justice of their country ! I call upon the Bishops to inter- 
pose the unsullied sanctity of their lawn, upon the judges 
to interpose the purity of their ermine, to save us from 
this pollution ! 

I call upon the honor of your Lordships, to reverence 
the dignity of your ancestors, and to maintain your own ! 
I call upon the spirit and humanity of my country, to 


vindicate the national character ! I invoke the genius of 
the Constitution ! From the tapestry that adorns these 
Avails, the immortal ancestor of the noble Lord frowns with 
indignation at the disgrace of his country ! 

Turn forth into our settlements, among our ancient con- 
nections, friends, and relations, the merciless cannibal, 
thirsting for the blood of man, woman, and child ? Send 
forth the infidel savage ? Against whom ? Against your 
brethren I To lay waste their country, to desolate their 
dwellings, and extirpate their race and name, with these 
horrible hounds of savage war ! 

Spain armed herself with blood-hounds to extirpate the 
wretched natives of America ; and we improve on the in- 
human example of even Spanish cruelty ; — we turn loose 
these savages, these fiendish hounds, against our brethren 
and countrymen in America, of the same language, laws, 
liberties, and religion — endeared • to us by every tie that 
should sanctify humanity ! Pitt. 


IT seemed to me as though I had been suddenly aroused 
from my slumber. I looked around and found myself 
in the centre of a gay crowd. The first sensation I expe- 
rienced was that of being borne along, with a peculiar 
motion. I looked around and found that I was in a long 
train of cars which were gliding over a railwav, and 
seemed to be many miles in length. It was composed of 
many cars. Every car, open at the top, was filled with 
men and women, all gayly dressed, and happy, and all 
laughing, talking, and singing. The peculiarly gentle 
motion of the cars interested me. There was no grating. 


such as we usually hear on the railroad- They moved 
along without the least jar or sound. This, I say, inter- 
ested me. I looked over the side, and to my astonishment 
found the railroad and cars made of glass. The glass 
wheels moved over the glass rails without the least noise 
or oscillation. The soft gliding motion produced a feeling 
of exquisite happiness. I was happy ! It seemed as 
everything was at rest within — I was full of peace. 

While I was wondering over this circumstance, a new 
sight attracted my gaze. All along the road, within a foot 
of the track, were laid long lines of coffins on either side 
of the railroad, and every one contained a corpse dressed 
for burial, with its cold white face turned upward to the 
light. The sight filled me with horror ; I yelled in agony, 
but could make no sound. The gay throng who were 
around me only redoubled their singing and laughter at 
the sight of my agony, and we swept on, gliding on with 
glass wheels over the railroad, every moment coming 
nearer to the bend of the road, which formed an angle 
with the road far, far in the distance. 

" Who are those ?" I cried at last, pointing to the dead 
in the coffins. 

"These are the persons who made the trip before us," 
was the reply of one of the gayest persons near me. 

"What trip?" I asked. 

" Why, the trip you are now making ; the trip on this 
glass railway," was the answer. 

" Why do they lie along the road, each one in his coffin ?" 
I was answered with a whisper and a half laugh which 
froze my blood : — 

" They were dashed to death at the end of the railroad," 
said the person whom I addressed. 

" You know the railroad terminates at an abyss which 


is without bottom or measure. It is lined with pointed 
rocks. As each car arrives at the end it precipitates its 
passengers into the abyss. They are dashed to pieces 
against the rocks, and their bodies are brought here and 
pkiced in the coffins as a warning to other passengers ; but 
no one minds it, we are so happy on the ghiss railroad." ' 

I can never describe the horror with which those words 
inspired me. 

" What is the name of the glass railroad ?" I asked. 

The person whom I asked, replied in the same strain : — 

" It is very easy to get into the cai-s, but very hard to 
get out. For, once in these, everybody is delighted with 
the soft, gliding motion. The cars move gently. Yes, this 
is a railroad of habit, and with glass wheels we are whirled 
over a glass railroad toward a fathomless abyss. In a few 
moments we'll be there, and they'll bring our bodies and 
put them in coffins as a warning to others ; but nobody Avill 
mind it, will they ?" 

I was choked with horror. I struggled to breathe — ■ 
made frantic eftbrts to leap from the cars, and in the 
struggle I awoke. I know it was only a dream, and yet 
whenever I think of it, I can see that long train of cars 
moving gently over the glass railroad. I can see cars far 
ahead, as they are turning the bend of the road. I can 
see the dead in their coffins, clear and distinct on either 
side of the road ; while the laughing and singing of the 
gay and happy passengers resound in my ears, I only see 
the cold faces of the dead, with their glassy eyes uplifted, 
and their frozen hands upon their shrouds. 

It was, indeed, a horrible dream. A long train of glass 
cars, gliding over a glass railway, freighted with youth, 
beauty, and music, while on either hand are stretched the 


victims of yesterday — gliding over the railway of habit 
toward the fathomless abyss. 

"There was a moral in that dream." 

" Reader, are you addicted to any sinful habit ? Break 
it off ere you dash against the rocks." 

George Lippard. 


GUIDE me, O Thou great Jehovah ! 
Pilgrim through this barren land ; 
I am weak, but Thou art mighty ; 
Hold me with Thy powerful hand ; 

Bread of heaven, 
Feed me till I want no more. 

Open Thou the crystal fountain 

Whence the healing streams do flow ; 

Let the fiery, cloudy pillar 

Lead me all my journey through ; 

Strong Deliverer, 
Be Thou still my Strength and Shield. 

When I tread the verge of Jordan, 

Bid my anxious fears subside ; 
Death of death ! and hell's Destruction ! 
Land me safe on Canaan's side ; 

■ Songs of praises 
I will ever give to Thee. 

W. Williams. 



IN the cross of Christ I glory, 
ToAvering o'er the wrecks of time ; 
All the light of sacred story 
Gathers round its head sublime. 

When the woes of life o'ertake me, 
Hopes deceive, and fears annoy, 

Never shall the cross forsake me : 
Lo ! it glows with peace and joy. 

When the sun of bliss is beaming 
Light and love upon my way, 

From the cross the radiance, streaming, 
Adds more lustre to the day. 

Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure, 

By the cross are sanctified ; 
Peace is there, that knows no measure, 

Joys that through all time abide. 
In the cross of Christ I glory. 

Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; 
All the light of sacred story 

Gathers round its head sublime. 



JESUS ! lover of my soul, 
Let me to Thy bosom fly. 
While the billows near me roll, 
While the tempest still is high ; 


Hide me, O my Saviour ! hide, 
Till the storm of life is past ; 

Safe into the haven guide ; 
Oh, receive my soul at last ! 

Other refuge have I none ; 

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee ; 
Leave, ah ! leave me not alone, 

Still support and comfort me. 
All my trust on Thee is stayed ; 

All my help from Thee I bring ; 
Cover my defenseless head 

With the shadow of Thy wing. 

Thou, O Christ ! art all I want ; 

More than all in Thee I find ; 
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, 

Heal the sick, and lead the blind. 
Just and holy is Thy name, 

I am all unrighteousness ; 
Vile and full of sin I am, 

Thou art full of truth and grace. 

Plenteous grace with Thee is found, — 

Grace to pardon all my sin ; 
Let the healing streams abound. 

Make and keep me pure within ; 
Thou of life the fountain art, 

Freely let me take of Thee ; 
Spring Thou up within my heart, 

Rise to all eternity. C. Wesley. 



MY country ! 'tis of thee, 
Sweet land of liberty, 
Of thee I sing ; 
Land where my fathers died ! 
Land of the Pilgrims' pride ! 
From every mountain side 
Let freedom ring ! 

My native country, thee — 
Land of the noble, free — 

Thy name I love ; 
I love thy rocks and rills, 
Thy woods and templed hills; 
My heart with rapture thrills 

Like that above. 

Let music swell the breeze, 
And ring from all the trees 

Sweet freedom's song ; 
Let mortal tongues awake ; 
Let all that breathe partake ; 
Let rocks their silence break, — 

The sound prolong. 

Our fathers' God ! to Thee, 
Author of liberty, 

To Thee we sing : 
Long may our land be bright 
With freedom's holy light ; 
Protect us by Thy might. 

Great God, our King ! S. F. Smith. 



THEN shall tlie kingdom of heaven be likened unto 
ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth 
to meet the bridegroom. 

And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. 

They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no 
oil with them. 

But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. 

While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and 

And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the 
bridegroom cometh ; go ye out to meet him. 

Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. 

And the foolish said unto the wise. Give us of your oil; 
for our lamps are gone out. 

But the wise answered, saying, Not so ; lest there be not 
enough for us and you ; but go ye rather to them that sell, 
and buy for yourselves. 

And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came ; and 
they that were ready went in with him to the marriage : 
and the door was shut. 

Afterward came also the other virgins, saying. Lord, 
Lord, oi^en to us. 

But he answered and said. Verily I say unto you, I 
know you not. 

Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the 
hour wherein the Son of man cometh. 

For the kingdom of heaven is as a man traveling into 
a far country, who called his own servants, and delivered 
unto them his croods. 


And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and 
to another one ; to every man according to liis several 
ability ; and straightway took his journey. 

Then he that had received the five talents went and 
traded with the same, and made them other five talents. 

And likewise he that had received two, he also gained 
other two. 

But he that had received one went and digged in the 
earth, and hid his lord's money. 

After a long time the lord of those servants cometh, and 
reckoneth with them. 

And so he that had received five talents came and 
brought other five talents, saying, Lord, thou deliveredst 
unto me five talents : behold, I have gained beside them 
five talents more. 

His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and 
faithful servant : thou hast been faithful over a few things, 
I will make thee ruler over many things : enter thou into 
the joy of thy lord. 

He also that had received two talents came and said, 
Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: behold, I 
have gained two other talents beside them. 

His lord said unto him, AVell done, good and faithful 
servant ; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will 
make thee ruler over many things : enter thou into the joy 
of thy lord. 

Then he which had received the one talent came and 
said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man, reap- 
ing where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou 
hast not strewed : 

And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent in the 
earth : lo, there thou hast that is thine. 

His lord answered and said unto him, Thou wicked and 


slotlifal servant, thou knewest that I reaj) where I sowed 
not, and gather where I have not strewed : 

Thou oughtest therefore to have put my money to the 
exchangers, and then at my coming I should have received 
mine own with usury. 

Take therefore the talent from him, and give it unto 
him which hath ten talents. 

For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall 
have abundance : but from him that hath not shall be 
taken away even that which he hath. 

And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer dark- 
ness : there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 

When the Son of man shall come in His glory, and all 
the holy angels with Him, then shall He sit upon the 
throne of His glory : 

And before Him shall be gathered all nations : and He 
shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divid- 
eth his sheep from the goats : 

And He shall set the sheep on His right hand, but the 
goats on the left. 

Then shall the King say unto them on His right hand, 
Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom pre- 
pared for you from the foundation of the world : 

For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat : I was 
thirsty, and ye gave me drink : I was a stranger, and ye 
took me in : 

Naked, and ye clothed me : I was sick, and ye visited 
me : I was in prison, and ye came unto me. 

Then shall the righteous answer Him, saying, Lord, 
when saw we Thee an hungered, and fed Thee ? or thirsty, 
and gave Thee drink ? 

When saw we Thee a stranger, and took Thee in ? or 
naked, and clothed Thee? 


Or "when saw we Thee sick, or in prison, and came 
unto Tlice ? 

And tiie King shall answer and say unto them. Verily 
I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of 
the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. 

Then shall He say also unto them on the left hand, De- 
part from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for 
the devil and his angels : 

For I was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat : I was 
thirsty, and ye gave me no drink : 

I was a stranger, and ye took me not in : naked, and 
ye clothed me not : sick, and in prison, and ye visited me 

Then shall they also answer Him, saying, Lord, when 
saw we Thee an hungered, or athirst, or a stranger, or 
naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto 
Thee ? 

Then shall He answer them, saying. Verily I say unto 
you. Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, 
ye did it not to me. 

And these shall go away into everlasting punishment : 
but the righteous into life eternal. 


HE that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High 
shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. 
I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress : 
my God ; in Him will I trust. 

Surely He shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, 
and from the noisome pestilence. 

He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His 


wings shalt thou trust : His truth shall be thy shield and 

Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night ; nor for 
the arrow that flieth by day ; 

Nor for the jDestilence that Avalketh i:i darkness ; nor for 
the destruction that wasteth at noonday. 

A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at 
thy right hand ; but it shall not come nigh thee. 

Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the 
reward of the wicked. 

Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, 
even the most High, thy habitation ; 

There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague 
come nigh thy dwelling. 

For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep 
thee in all thy ways. 

They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash 
thy foot against a stone. 

Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder : the young 
lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet. 

Because he hath get his love upon me, therefore will I 
deliver him : I will set him on high, because he hath known 
my name. 

He shall call upon me, and I will answer him : I will be 
with him in trouble ; I will deliver him, and honor him. 

With long life will I satisfy him, and show him my sal- 


Abdominal Mu3cles, 37. 

Accent, seat of, 89-91. 

Active - osition, 143; advanced and re- 
tired postures, 143; examples for 
pj-actice in the active position, ad- 
vanced, 144 ; retired, 145. 

Adam's Apple, .37 

Adaptation, essential to correct ex- 
pression, 113. 

Adaptation of Gesture to Speech, 

Adoration (gesture), 157. 

Advanced Instruction, 1S3, 184. 

Affectation (facial expression), 162. 

Affliction (gesture), 157. 

Alphabetic Equivalents, 85. 

"Amiast the Mists," &c, 78 

Analysis of Language, essen al to cor- 
rect expression, 112. 

Analysis of Principles of Elocution, 
IS ; exi)lanation, 19. 

Analysis of the Thought, 192. 

And, how pronounced, 102. 

Anger (facial expression), 161. 

Anger (gesture), 157. 

Appeal to Conscience (gesture), 156. 

Appendi.s. miscellaneous suggestions, 
1»5 ; Enpliasis, 186 ; miscellaneous 
vncal exercises, 187; laughter, 189; 
Bible reading, 189 ; relations of 
sound tosense, 191 ; transition, 191; 
analvsis, 19v! ; repose, 193. 

Apprftrpriate changes of Time reflect 
ae/1-contcol, 123. 

Appropriate Quantity, essentlalto coiw 
rect expression, 127. 

Arm Movements, 146; their purpose, 
146 ; examples tor practice, 147, 148. 

Art, defined, 193, 194. 

Articles, a and the, 102. 

Articulation, 69 ; definition, 69; impor. 
tance, 69; its scope, 70; staudard of 
pronunciation, 70; Webster or Wor- 
cester, 71; exercises in articulation, 
74; how to learn to spell phoneti- 
cal'lv, 75,76 ; words for spelling,74, 84, 
87,99, lOu, 101 ; long andshort vowels, 
78, 79 , subtonic combinations, 80,84, 
87, 88; classifications of elementary 
sounds, 80, 81 ; diacritical points. 81 ; 
practical hints upon a few voice 
sounds, 82, 83; equivalents, 85, cog- 
n.-ites, 86; contrasts, 86; se.-ij. of the 
accent, 94 9(5 ; prefixes, 91 94 ; termi- 
nations, 89 91 ; unaccented vowels, 
97-99 : words otten mispronounced, 
99-101; recreations in articulation, 

Ascending Line of Direction (arm 
movements), 146; examples for prac- 
tice,one handsupine,loO ; both hands 
supine, 153; one hand prone, 153; 
both hands prone ; one hand vertical, 
154 ; both hands vertical, 155. 

Aspirated, 6 4; examples, 67. 

Aspirate combinations, 84. 

Attention (gesture), 156. 

Author's Opportunities for knowing 
the wants of teachers, 170. 

B following m, 101. 

"Ba-pa," &&., 79, 84, 86. 87, 88. 


Bible Reading, 189. 

Body, moveuients of, 145. 

Breathing, 38; what we breattte, 38; 

wliy we broathe, 39 ; how we breathe, 
3y ;" breathing exercises, 39, 40. 

Breath Sounds, 81. 

Business Life, as related to Elocution, 

Cautions (gesture), 169. 

" Ceaseth Approacheth," &c, 19. 

Charge of the Light Brigade (gesture), 

Chart, Outline of Elocution, 18 ; ex- 
llanatiion, 19. 

Chart of Vocal F.xercises, 41. 

Chart, (gesture), 141. 

Circumflex, 132; examples for practice, 
139, 140. 

Clasped Hands (gesture"), 156. 

Classification of Elementary Sounds, 

Climax, 163. 

Clinched Hands (gesture), 157. 

Coalescents, 81 ; ar, er, or and ur, in- 
currectly sounded, 83. 

Cognates, 86. 

Combination Exercise in pitch, force, 
aud Kate, 126. 

Comprehension of the sentiment es- 
sential to the expression, 112. 

Conscience (gesture), 156. 

Contents, 15. 

Contrasts, 86. 

Conversation, 23; for its own sake, 23; 
Smumary, 24 ; suggestions to stu- 
dents, 24; conversational exercises. 
25-29; conversation in its relation to 
reading, 30, 31 , analogy between it 
and reading, 30; distinction between 
it and reading, 30 ; models for read- 
ing found in conversation, 31 ; im- 
personation, 31 ; conversation in its 
relation to public address, 32 ; anal- 
ogy betw. en it ^nd public address, 
32; disiinrtion between it and pub- 
lic address, 32; illustration, 32, 33 ; 
guide to public address, 33 ; remarks 
upon the distinction between con- 
versation and public address, 34 ; 
models for public speech found in 
pure conversation, 34 ; general sum- 
mary, 34 ; the germs of elocution 
found in pure conversation, 35. 

Conversational Gestures, 142. 
Conversational Slide, 131 • examples 
llor practice, 135,137. 

Crowning Power of Expression, 131. 

Crude Gestures, 169. 

Curved and Straight Lines, (arm 
movements), 147 ; guiding princi- 
ples, 146 ; examples lor practice, 148. 

Definition of Articulation, 69. 

Definition of Elocution, 20. 

Defiance (facial expression), 161. 

Defiance (gesture), 157 

Descending Line of Direction, (arm 
movements), 152; examples lor prac- 
tice, 152; one hand supine, 152; both 
hands supine, 152; one hand prone, 
153 : both hands prone, 153. 

Development of Voice, 38 ; its distinc- 
tive aim, 38 ; breathing, 33; breath- 
ing exercises, 39, 40 ; vocal exercises, 
40, 41. 

Diacritical Points, 81. 

Diaphragm, 36, 37. 

Dictionaries, 71, 72. 

Direction of Lines, whether middle, 
ascending, or descending, 148. 

Double Gestures, 150. 

Dramatic Gestures, 142. 

Drawing Sword (gesture), 157. 

Dropping Hands (gesture), 157. 

Ear Training, 69. 

Effusive, examples, 47, 48. 

Elementary Sounds, classificatioo , 
80 ; table of, 81, 

Elocution, outline of, 18 ; explanation, 

Emotion and Fervor often mistaken 
for correct expression, 113. 

Emphasis, 186; capital idea, 186; subor- 
dinate idea, 186. Connections, group- 
ing, 18C. 

Emphasis, Gestures of, 146; examples 
for practice, 147. 

Emphatic Slide, 131; examples foi 
prgctice, 137, 138. 

Enunciation, 185. 

Equivalents, 85. 

Essentials of Expression, 112. 

Excess in Gesture, 169. 

Exercises in Articulation, 73 — 88. 

Exercises in Breathing, 39 ; chest, 39f 
costal, 39; waist, 39 ; dorsal, 39; ab- 
dominal, 39; full, 40; prolonged, 40^ 
effusive, 40; expulsive, 40; explo- 
sive, 40. 

Exercises in Conversational Styles. 

35—29." ' 



exercise in pitch, force, and rate com- 

biaed, 1_'6. 
Explanation of Outline of Elocution, 


Explosive, examples in, 49, 50. 

Expression, 112; modulation, 113; 
quality, 113; pitch, 113 ; examples 
of medium pitch, 114, 115; of high 
pitch, 111, 116; of low pitch, 117; 
force, 118; examples in medium 
force, 119 ; in full furce, 120 ; in sub 
dued force, 121 ; time, 122 ; rate, 123; 
examples in medium rate, 123; In 
rapid rate, 124; in slow rate, 125; 
combination exercise, 126; quantity, 
127; examples in medium quantity, 
127 ; iuloDf? quantity, 128; in short 
quantity, 128, 129; pause. 129, 130: 
rhftorical combined with gram- 
matical pause, 130; slides, 131; ex- 
ercises in slides, 132—135; in conyer- 
sational slides, 13'— 137; in emphatic 
slides, 137, 138; wave or circumflex, 
139, 110. 

Expulsive, examples in, 49. 

Extreme Fear (facial expression), 162. 

Extreme Surprise (facial expression), 

Exultation (facial expression), 163. 

Exultation (gesture), 156. 

Facial Expression, unimpassionedand 
impassioned, 1".8, 159 ; guiding prin- 
ciples, 159; examples lor practice, 
159, 1G3. 

Falling Circumflex, 132. 

False Gestures, 169. 

Falsetto, 67 68; examples for practice, 

Faults of Articulation, 176 

Faults in Bible Reading, 189, 191. 

Faults of Expression, 176, 177. 

Faults of Gesture, 177. 

Faults of Voice in the schoolrooroi 

Faulty Pronunciation, how corrected, 

Feet, position, 143. 

Finger Index, 158. 

Flourish of the Hand (gesture), 156. 

Force, 118; not arbitrary, 118 ; how pro- 
duced, 118; distinguished from noise, 
118; examples of medium, subdued, 
and full, 119—122. 

Free Gymnastics, 54. 

Fulcrum Power of the Voice, 176. 

Full Breathing, examplca in, 58. 

Full Force, 119; examples for practice, 

120, 121. 
Fundamental Principles of Public 

Address, 185. 

General Suggestions, (gesture,) 168. 

General View of Elocution, 18; expla- 
nation, 19. 

Gesture, 141; outline, 141; conversa- 
tional gestures. Hi ; oratorical ges^ 
lures, 142; dramatic gestures, 142; 
position, 143'; examples for practice 
in the various p-isitious, 144; move- 
ments of the body, 145; head, 145; 
arm, 146; examples for practice, 147; 
lines, 147; guiding principles, 147; 
position of hand, 149; examples for 
practice, 150; lower limbs, 157;in--« 
dex finger, 153; facial expression, 
158; guiding principles, 19; unim- 
passioued facial expression, 159, 160; 
impassiined, 160: reverence, pathos, 
joyousness, 160; secrecy, indignant 
command, anger, defiance, resigna- 
tion, sadness, grief, extreme surprise, 
161 ; hatred, extreme fear, jealousy, 
triumph, affection, hunger, and sad- 
ness, scorn, 162; terror, revenge, ex- 
ultation, 163; miscellaneous exer- 
cises, 163 — 168; general suggestions, 
168 ; cauiions to be observed, 169, 

Gesture a Supplemert to Speech, 

Gestures, conversational, 142; dramatic, 

Gesture, General Suggestions, 168 ; not 
arbitrary, but subj^ et to certain nat- 
ural laws, ; special exercises, 156 

Gestures— of emphasis, 146; examples 
for practice, 147; of illustration, 146; 
examples for practice, 147; of loca- 
tion, 146; examples for practice, 147; 
oratorical, 142. 

Graceful Carriage, 

Grammatical Pause, 129. 

Grief, (facial expression,) 161. 

Grouping, 186. 

Guide to Public Address, S3. 

Guiding Principles in facial expres« 
sion, 159; in the use of the lower 
limbs, 157, ln8. 

Guttural, G4 ; examples in, 65, 65. 

Gymnastics, 54 : Free Gymnastics — > 
First series, 54; second series, 55 ; 
explanation of first series, 55, 57 , ex« 
planation of second series, 57, 58. 

Hand, Position of, 

Hatred (facial expression), 162. 

"He adds fourths, fifths," Ac, 85, 

Head movements, 145. 

Heart (gesture,) 156. 

High Pitch, 114; examples for practice, 

115, 116. 
How to Correct faulty pronunciation, 

How to learn to Spell phonetically, 75, 

How^ to master the long and short 
vowels, 78. 

Hunger and Sadness (facial expres- 
sion), 162. 

Illustration, ^stures of, 146 ; examples 
fur practice, 147. 

Impassioned Facial Expression, 159; 
examples for practice, 160 — 163. 

Impersonation, iSTote 1, 31. 

Importance of Articulation, 69, 

Importance of Elocution, in physical 
development, 21; in social life, 21; 
in business life, 22 ; in public life, 

Importance of Vocal Culture, 172. 

Impure Qualities of Voice, 63, 64, ex- 
amples, 64, 63. 

Index Finger (gesture), 158. 

Indignant Commana (facial expres- 
sion), 161. 

Influence of the human voice, 172. 

Instruction, methods of, 170. 

Instruction (primary and advanced), 
180, 1S4. 

Intense Thought (gesture), 156. 

Intermediate or Fifth a incorrectly 
sounded, 82. 

Italian a incorrectly sounded, 82. 

Jealousy [facial expression], 162. 

Joy [gesture], 156. 

Joyousness [facial expression], 160. 

Language of the Bible, [fruitful in 
meaning, heuce diflS-Cult to read], 

Larynx, 37. 

Laughter, 189. 

Lines straight and curved, in arm 
movements, 147, guiding principles, 
147 ; examples lor practice, 148. 
Location, gesture of, 146 ; Examples for 

practice, 147. 
Long and short vow^els, (how to mas- 

■ ler them ) 78. 
Long Quantity, 127 ; examples for prac- 
tice, 128. 

Long u, incorrectly sounded, 83. 
Lower Limbs (guiding principles^, 

157, 158. 
Low Pitch, 114 ; examples for practice, 

Lungs, 36, 37. 

Magnetic Connection of words, 185. 
Meaningless Gestures, 169. 
Medium Force, 118 ; examples for prac- 
tice, 119. 
Medium Pitch, 114. 
Medium Quantity, 127 ; examples fol 

practice, 127. 
Medium Rate, 123; examnles forprao 

tice, 123, 124 
Mental Suffering [gesture], 156. 
Methods of Instruction, 170; theory 
of teaching, 170; importance, 172; 
faults, 175 ; outline of methods, 180 ; 
primary instruction, 180, 183; ad- 
vanced instruction, 183,184. 
Middle Line of Direction, (arm move- 
ment) 148; examples for praciice,150; 
one hand supine, 150; both hands 
supine, 150; one haod prone, 153; 
both hands prone, 153 ; one hand 
vertical, 154; both hands vertical, 
Miscellaneous Exercises in gesture 

IriS— 168. 
Miscellaneous Suggestions for read- 
ing and speaking, 185, 186. 
Miscellaneous Vocal Exercises, 187„ 

Modulation, 113. 
Monotony, how avoided, 122, 123. 
Movements of the Body, (head, arm. 

lower limbs,) 145, 146. 
My, [how pronounced], 102. 
Nature, a proper study for attitude and 

action, 168. 
Negative Language requires sustaine j 

voice or rising f>lide, 132. 
Noise and physical violence distir* 

guished from force, 119. 
Objects to be attained in gesture, 169. 
Observation of Characters in piiintinf 
and sculpture recommended for at 
titude and action, 168. 
Oratorical Gestures, 142. 
Orotund Voice, I'O; examples, 61—63. 
Outline of Elocution and analys^is oi 

principles, 13 ; explanation, 19. 
Outline of Gesture, 14!. 
Outline of methods of instruction. 180- 

DfDEX. 307 

Passive Position, 143 ; examples for 

practice, 144. 
Pause, 129. 

Pectoral, 64; examples iu, 64, 65. 
Position [gesture], 156. 
Philosophy of Voice, 36. 
Phonetic Spelling, how to begin, 75, 

Physical Development as related to 
elocution, 21. 

Physical Exercise essential to vocal 
dL-velopraent, 38. 

Pitch, 118 ; not a volition of the reader 
or speaker, but a demand of the sen- 
timent, 113; bow produced, 114 ; 
examples of medium, high and low, 

Pope's Rule applind to pronunciation > 

Position of Feet, 143. 

Position of Hand, supine, prone, ver- 
tical, 140; examples for practice, 
150, 156. 

Position, passive and active, 143. 

Positive Language requires downward 
slide, 131. 

Posture or Position, 143. 

Practical Hints upon a few voice 
souuds, 82, 83. 

Practice against inclination and nat- 
ural taste, 186. 

Practice frequently, but not when 
w*ary, 185. 

Prayer (gesture), 156. 

Preface, 9. 

Prefixes, bl, 94; prefix a, 91; bi, tri, 
chi, cli, cri, pri, 92; i and y in 
tirsi syllables, 92; n in prefix con, 
9-' 93 ; o equivalent to short u, 93 ; 
prefix ex, 93; prefix dis, 93; s in- 
correctly sounded, 93; prefix with, 

Primarv Instruction, 180, 183. 

Principles, 35. 

Prone Hand, 149; examples for prac- 
tice, 154. 

Pronunciation, the standard of, 70. 

Public Address, as related to conver- 
sation, 32 ; guide to public address, 
3 { ; models found in pure con- 
versation, 34. 

Public Life as related to Elocution, 22. 

Pure Qualities of Voice, 59, 60 ; exam- 
ples, 60, 62. 

Quality, 59; pure qiiality, 59, 60; ex- 
amples in simple pure quality, 60, 
61; in orotund, 61, 63; impure qual- 

ity, 63 ; pectoral. 64; guttu^I, '4; 
aspirated, 64; falsetto. 67, &^ ; ex .m- 
ples in pectoral. 64 65. in gn/t' ral, 
65, 66; in aspirated, 67; in fals ;tto, 

Quality of Voice, as an element of ex- 
pression, 113. 
Quantity, 127. 
Quick Preception and prompt and 

graceful changes of voice essential 

to correct expression, 113. 
Quintillian's estimate of the face as an 

ehment of expression, 159 
R, sh and w, before long u, 83. 
Rapid Rate, 123 ; examples, 124. 
Pate, 123 ; examples of medium, fast 

and slow, 123-126. 
Reading as related to conversation, 80. 
Recreations in Articulation, 103, 111, 
Relative Emphasis of the leading and 

subordinate ideas in a sentence, 186. 
Remedy for faults of voice, &c., in the 

schoolroom, 177, 179. 
Repose, 169, 103, 194. 
Resignation (facial expression), 161. 
Respiration, 39 ; nostrils should he 

used, 39. 
Revenge (facial expression), 163. 
Reverence (facial expression), i60. 
Rhetorical Pause, 129 ; examples, 12ft. 

Rising Circumflex, 132. 
S and sh followed by long u, 102. 
Sadness (facial expression), 161. 
Scorn (facial expression), 162. 

Sculpture and Painting as a study foi 
attitude, 168. 

Seat of the Accent, 89. 92 ; a syllable, 
89; monosyllable, dissyllable, trisyl- 
lable, polysyllable, 89; ultimate, pe- 
nult, antepenult, preantepenult, 89; 
words of two syllables, 89 ; of 
more than two syllables, 90 ; Eng- 
lish derivatives, 90 ; words from 
the Latin and Greek. 90; from the 
French, 91; words used antitheti- 

Secrecy (facial expression ,161. 
Sentirn snt and characterization, 18-^. 
Sh ine ^rrectly sounded, 101. 
Shorf o incorrectly sounded. 82. 
Shor . Quantity, 127; examples, 128, 

/ i9. 
Simple Pure ''oice, 59, examples, 60, 


Slides, 131; upward, 131; downward. 
131 ; wave or circumflex, 132. 

Slow Rate, 123 ; examples, 125, 126, 

Social Life, as related to elocution, 21. 

Soul Power, of spoken language, 112. 

Sound to Sense, 191. 

Special Exercises in Gesture, 156-158. 

Speech, 35 ; speech and gesture the two 
gieat mediums of thought, 35; its 
subdivisions, 35. 

Standard of Pronunciation, 70. 

Straight and Curved Lines, arm move- 
ments, 147 ; guiding principles, 147 ; 
examples, 148 

Subdued Force, 119; examples, 121, 

Subtonic and Aspirate Combinations, 
87, 88. 

Subtonic Combinations, 80-84. 

Supine Hand, 149; examples, 150, 

Sustained Force, examples, 51, 52. 

Swell, examples, 50,51. 

Sympathy with the sentiment neces- 
sary to correct expression, 112. 

T in tie suppressed, 101. 

Table of Contents, 15. 

Table of Elementary Sounds, 81. 

Table of Vocal Exercises, 41; expla- 
nation ui i^ble, 42, 43, 

Terminations, 94,96; en, 94; el, 94; 

ed,9'>; ine, 95; on, 96 ; il, 96; in, 

96; ain, 96. 
Terror [facial expression], 163. 
Th, Vocal and Aspirate, 101. 
The Face a mirror of the emotions, 158. 
Theory of Teaching, 170-180. 
rime, 122; a demand of the sentiment, 

and not a caprice of the reader or 

speaker, 114. 

Time and Toil, 169, 
Trachea, 37. 

Transition, 168, 192. 

Tremor, examples, 52, 53. 

Triumph (facial expression), 162. 

Triumph (gesture), 156. 

Unaccented Vowels 97-98 ; tendencies 
oflonga, longe. >horl e, short a. Ital- 
ian a, intermtdiate a, long o short 
e, coalescent ar, er, or, 9S ; Italian 
a followed hj r, long oo, 99 ; caution 
in reference to Worcester's mark, 

Unimpassioned Facial Expression, 
159 ; examples 159, 160. 

Union Sounds, 81 

Utterance, 37, 38. 

Vertical Hand, 149; examples, 155, 

Vocal Cords, 36, 37, 

Vocal Culture, its importance, 172. 

Vocal Exercises, 40 ; table of, 41 ; ex- 
amples in Natural, 44 ; in full lorce, 
45 ; in high and low, 46, 47 : in effu- 
sive, 47, 48 ; in expulsive, 49 ; in ex- 
plosive, 49, 50; in swoll, 5ii, 51; in 
sustained force, 51, 52; in tremor, 
52,53 ; in full breathing, 53. 

Voice, 35 : philosophy of, 35 ; utterance 
37; dev. loprnent, 3S; vocal exer- 
cises, with table and explanation, 

Voice Sounds, 81. 

Vowels, when not under the accent, 

Wave, 131. 

Wave of the Hand ('gesture), 156. 

Webster or Worcester, 71. 

" What whim," &c.. 77. 

Wonder (gesture), 158. 

Words for Spelling, 77, 84, 87, 99, 101. 

Words often mispronounced, 99-101. 

Wrapping Drapery (gesture), 157. 

Wringing Hands (gesture), 157. 


Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, and 13, NOW READY. 



ffllocutionist's ^Ennual 

The Authors, with a high appreciation of their subject and with a 
full acquaintance with the practical wants and details of their profession, 
present in the Elocutionist's Annual the result of many years of 
teaching and professional experience, and have produced a book that 
is unequalled by any similar work ever issued from the press. 

The Annual is based upon a method at once original and rational, 
a combination of Elocutionary Training with Elocutionary Perform- 
ances, and it has been the Compilers' leading object to thus answer all 
the wants of the voice, and at the same time supply suitable exercises 
for any occasion where Readings, Recitations, etc., would be in order. 
In these points, as well as in its cheapness, the Publishers claim for 
The Elocutionist's Annual 

_^2peGial ittractioris oier any otter Work^^^, 

of a like character. 

Retail Prices, Postpaid. 

In Paper Binding, strong and durable, with handsomely 

engraved cover, ......'. 30 cents. 

In Superior Cloth Binding, with gilt back, . . . 50 " 

To Schools, Colleges, Seminaries, etc., a special discount will be 
made upon \\\z first supply. 

Money to the amount of one dollar and upwards must be serjt by 
Registered Letter, P. O. Money Order, or Draft made payable to 


National School of Elocution and Oratory, 



A COMPLETE I.IST of the contents of the EL.OCV : 
tf'IOXIST'S ANNUAL., Alpllabetically Arrang^ed. 

Abraham Lincoln. 
After the Accident. 
Aunie and Willie's Prayer 
Army and Navy, The (Tab- 
Beautiful, The (Tableau). 
Betsey and I are Out. 
Blue and the Gray, The. 
Boys, The 

Break, Break, Break. 
Bridge, The. 
Bugle Song. 
BuUum t;«rs«« Boatum. 
Burial of Moses, The. 
Charcoal Man, The. 
Charge of the Li?bt Bri- 


Hamlet's Instruction to the 

Hamlet's Ghost, 

Independence Bell. 

Isle of Long Ago, The. 

It's All for Bread and But- 
ter (Dialogue). 

Jean Anderson, my Joy, 

John Mayuard. 

Katie Lee and Willie Gray. 


Launch of the Ship, The. 


Memory of Washington, 

Modern Cain, The. 

Mrs. Caudle's Lecture. 

My Early Home. 

My Mule. 

Nathan's Case. 

Nobody's Child. 

Old Year and the New, 

Old Yankee Farmer, The. 

Orator Puff. 

Othello's Apology. 

Our Folks. 

Over the Hill. 

Child- Wife, The. 
Coming and Going. 
Creeds of the Bells, The. 
Crossing the Carry. 
Death of Little Joe. 
Death of Little Nell. 
Difficulty of Rhyming, The. 
Dying Christian, The. 
Empty Nest, The. 
Experience with European 

Evening at the Farm. 
Extract from the Last Over the River. 

Speech of Robt. Emmett. Patrick Dolin's Love-Let- 
Farmer's Kitchen before | ter. 

Thanksgiving (Tableau), j Pat's Excelsior. 
Forty Years Ago. i Pax Vobiscum. 

Frog Hollow Lyceum, The Prodigal Son, The. 

(Dialogue). I Psalm XXIII. 

Gipsy Camp (Tableau). ' 


Andrew Jackson. 

Arnold Wiukelried. 

Barn Window, The. 

Bells of Shandon, The, 

Bible Reading. 

Brought to Trial for Blowin' 

Buck Fanshaw's Fune- 

Cassius against Gaasar. 



Choosing (Dialogue). 

Christmas Carol, A. 

Christmas Eve (_Panto- 

Courtship Under DlABcuI- 
ties (Dialogue). 

Darius Green and his Fly- 
ing Machine. 

Death of Eva. 

Demagogue, The. 

Dow's Flat, 1856. 

Dutchman's Speech at An 
Institute, A. 

East and the West One, 

Egyptian Debate (Dia- 


Father in Heaven. 

First Appearance in Typ«. 

Flower (Flour) Girl (Tab- 

Ghosts, The. 

Go It Alone. 

Hallowed be Thy Name 

Hamlet's Soliloquy. 

Hezekiah Bedott. 

High Tide ; or, The Brides 
of Enderby. 

How Mr. Coville Counted 
the Shingles. i 

Isaiah XXXV. | 

Johnny's Opinion of Grand- 
mothers. I 

Liberty and Union. j 

Lochinvar's Ride. 

May Queen — Conclusion , 

Miss Maloney on the Chi- 
nese Question. 

Mr. Coville on Danbury. 

Month of Mars, The. 

Morning, Noon and Night 

Nature of True Eloquenc 

New Church Organ, The. 

New Year's Address, A. 

North American Indians, 

Old Man in the Model 
Church, The. 


Psalm XXIV. 

Rainy Day, The. 

Relief of Lucknow, The. 

Revolutionary Rising, Th» 

Bomeo and Juliet, Balcony 

Scene (Dialogue). 
■ Sam Weller's Valentine 

Scripture Tableaux. 
Scrooge and Marley. 
SearciunH for Happiness 

Signing the Pledge (Tab- 
Smack in School, The. 
' 3ng of the Forge, The 

Song of the Winter Winds. 
Song Revels. 

Spartacus to the Gladiators. 
To a Christmas Pudding. 
To Whom shall we Give 

Thanks ? 
Tragedy, A. 
Uncle Pete's Counsel to the 

Newlv Married. 
Waif, A". 
Why He Wouldn't Sell the 

W^illiam Tell. 
Will the New Year Come 

Woman's Rights (Tableau). 
Woman's Rights. 
Your Mission. 
You Put no Flowers on my 
Papa's Grave. 


Old and Blind. 

Only a Boy. 

Oratory and the Press. 

Over the Hill to the Poo»s 

Playing Singing-School 

Polish Boy, The. 
Puzzled Dutchman, The, 
Red Jacket, The. 
Robinson Crusoe. 
Rogers' Groups (Tableaux). 
Romance of Nick Va» 

Stann, The. 
Rum's iSfaniac. 
Scripture Tableaux. 
Sixty-tour and Sixty-flve. 
Socrates Snooks. 
Soldier's Reprieve. The. 
Spanish Armada, The. 

Fishers, Tlie (Tal>- 


'rial Scene— Merchant of 
I Venice (Dialogue). 
! Twenty -third Psalm, The. 
Washington as a Civilian. 
Where Shall the Baby'a 

Dimple be? 
Wolsev's Fall. 
Yarn of the Kancv B^l. 

|Y«uug Scliolar, The. 

"I have used the mimbers of the Elocutionist's Annual for fout 
years, and have found it the best collection of'stnnclard pieces, 

both for my own reading and for the use of my pupils, that I bave 
ever seen."— Prt>f. J. M. Gillam, Instructor in Elocution in Illinois 
Wesleyan University. Bloomington, Illinois. 


Adoon the Lane. 

4mericau Flag, The. 

Babys First Tooth, The. 

Bardell and Pickwick. 

Barou'8 Last Banquet, The. 

Battle of Bear au Duine. 


Burning Ship, The. 

Charlie Machree. 

Christmas Hymn. 

Christmas -Tide (Dialogue). 

Closing Year, The. 

Cinderella's Slipper (Ta- 

Cynic, The. 

Despair is Never Quite De- 

Eagle's Rock, The. 

Famine, The. 

Female Gossip. 

Goodness and Greatness of 

GJood-Night, Papa. 

Haunted House, The. 

Hypochondriac, The. 

If I should Die To- Nisht. I 
Indian Chief to the White 

Settler, The. 
Inquiry, The. 
Jack and Gill. 
Kit Carson's Ride. 
Laughin' iu Meetin'. 
Lides to Bary Jade. 
Little Goldeuhair. 
Lost and Found. 
Maud Muller. 
Monster Cannon, The. 
National Monument to 

Negro Prayer. 
Old Forsaken School-house, 

Painter of Seville, The. 
Parrhasius and the Captive. 
Parting Hymn. 
Passing Away. 
Poor Little Jim. 
Power of Habit, The. 
Promise, The. 
Pulpit Oratory. 

Quarrel of Br\itus and Cas- 

sius (Dialogue). 
Reaching the Early Train. 
Reply to Mr. Corry. 
Reverie in Church. 
Rock of Agea. 
Scripture Scenes (Ta- 



Senator's Dilemma, The. 
Seven Ages of Man. 
Signs and Omens. 
Song of Moses. 
Song of the Sea. 
Songs of Seven (Dialogue). 
Tell on his Native Hills. 
Three Fishers, The. 
Train to Mauro, The (Dia- 
Trust in God. 
Two Glasses, The. 
Vagabonds, The. 

Welcome to Summer, A. 
W aiting for the Children. 


A Man's a Man, for a" That. 


Angels of Buena Vista, The. 

Annuity, The. 

Appeal to the Sextant for 
Air, An. 

Aunt Kindly. 

Baggage- Smasher, Ye. 

Battle of Bunker's Hill, The 

Battle Hymn of the Repub- 

Black Horse and his Rider, 

Bridal Wine Cup, The (Di- 

Burning Prairie, The. 

Cause of Temperance, The. 

Centennial Oration. 

Christmas Sheaf, The. 

Clarence's Dream. 

Columbia's Centennial Par- 
ty (Dialogue). 



Surfew Must Not King To- 

Deacon Munroe's Story. 

Dead Church, The. 

Declaration of Independ- 


Dot Lambs vot Mary Haf 

Faith and Reason. 

Fire, The. 

Gambler's Wife, The. 

Ghost, The. 

Grandmother's Story. 

Great Beef Contract, The. 

How a Married Man Sews 
on a Button. 

Judge Pitman on Various 
Kinds of Weather. 

Kentucky Belle. 

Leap- Year Wooing, A. 

Love Your Neighbor as 

Maiden's Last Farewell, 

Mark Antony Scene (Dia- 

Modest Wit, A» 

Negro Prayer, A. 

No God. 

Ode to the Dei*-.y. 

Ode to Independence Hail, 

Ode to the Legislature. 

Our Own. 

Paul Revere's Ride. 

Quarrel of Squire Bull and 
his Son Jonathan, The. 

Rationalistic Chicken, The. 

Raven, The. 

Remember Now thy Cre- 


Revelation XXII, 

Rienzi's Address. 

Rival Speakers, The (Dia- 

Spirit of 76 (Tableau). 

Tommy Taft. 

Tribute to Washington. 

Union, The. 

What the Old Man Said, 

Yankee's Stratagem, Th» 

, (Dialogue). 

From the Tramcript, Portland, TiTaine. 

•"These selections evince correct taste and furnish the amatettt 

reader and the professional elocutionist with the widest ran^« 

of subjects for occasions on which matters of that kind may 1>« 


koer. The. 

Ail that Glitte] 

Arcliie Deaa. 


Betty Lee. 

Brave at Home, Tlie. 

Bride of the Greek Isle, 

Brook, The. 

Budge's Version of the 

CatiL'n.e'3 Defiance. 

Centennial Hymn. 

Comin' Thro' the Eye (Ta- 

Competing Eailroads, The 

Corinthians, I, XV. 

Course of Love too Smooth, 

Dedication of Gettysburg 

Elder Mr. Weller's Senti- 
mects on Literary Com- 

Fairy -Land. 

Fashionable Singing. 

Flood of Years, The. 


Good Reading, 
is not Gold Hans and Fritz. 

He Giveth ■ His Beloved" 

Heroes of the Land of 

V we Hunted a Mouse. 

John and Tibbie's Dispute. 

Lahore est Orare. 

Last Hymn, The. 

Leak in the Dyke, The. 

Listeners Hear no Good of 
Themselves (Tableau). 

Lost and Found, 

Magdalena ; or. The Span- 
ish Duel. 

Maiden Martyr, The. 

Man Wants but Little Here 

Man's Ingratitude. 

Membranous Croup and the 

Moral Effects of Intemper- 


My Trundle-Bed. 

Old Ironsides. 

Once Upon a Time. 

Only a Baby. 

Over the Hills and Pa» 

Parthenia (Dialogue). 

Prisoner of Chillon, Th«. 

Prince Henry and Falstaff 

Puritans, The. 

Ready for a Kiss. 


Samantha Smith becomes 
Josiah Allen's "Wife. 

Saracen Brothers (Dia* 

Schoolmaster's Guests, The. 

Song of Birds. 

Swell's Soliloquy, The. 


Summer Friends. 

Swallowing a Fly. 

To a Skull. 

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp. 

True Contentment. 

Uncle Daniel's Introduc- 
tion to a Mississippi 

Vaudois Missionary, The. 

Where is Papa To-Night. 

Why Biddie and Pat Mar^ 


Artemus Ward's London 

Asleep at the Switch 
Ave Maria. 
Battle of Ivry, The. 
Bridge of Sighs, The. 
Brother Anderson's Dei- 

Cane-Bottomed Chair, The. 
Children's Hour, The. 
Cool Reason (Dialo; 
Dagger Scene, The. 
Day at Niagara, A. 
Deserted House, The. 
Doctor Marigold. 
Dukite Snake, The. 
Easter Morning. 
Edith Helps Things Along. 
Eve and the Serpent. 
Extract from "The Last 

Saya of Heroulaueum,' 


Father Phil's Collection. 
From the Tragedy of King 

John (Dialogue). 
Fruits of Labor, The. 
Getting Under Way. 
Green- Mountain Justice, 

Hard Shave, A (Tableau). 
Hatchet Story. 
Ho ! Every One that Thirst - 

Home Song. 
Jane Conquest. 
Jennie M'Neal's Ride. 
Little Allie. 
Malibran and the Young 

Mary Stuart (Dialogue). 
My Country, 'tis of Thee. 
Nae Luck Aboot the House. 
Niagara. , 

Old Sergeant, The. 


Organ Creations. 

Palmetto and tlie Pine, The. 

Professor Puzzled, The 

Relentless Time. 
Satan and the Grog-seliei^ 
School "Called." 
Song of the Crickets, The. 
Songs in the Niglit. 
St. John the Aged. 
Thanksgiving, A. 
To a Friend. 
Tribute to East Tennessee 

Valley Forge. 
Washington (Tableau). 

Prof. CJtJorge P. Beard, Principal South-western State Normal School, 
California, Pa., says: "The Elocutionist's Annual is largely used 
by students of this school for choice selections for public recitation 
and reading. They are admirably adapted to the practi- 
cal work of elocution." 


American War, The. 

Aiil.l LaugSyne. 


Builders, The. 

C;vre of God, The. 

Ci escent and the Cross,The. 

Cuddle Doon. 

Daisy's Faith. 

Death of the Old Year, The. 

Death of Nelson, The. 

Death of the Old Squire, 

Early Christmas Morning. 

Fair Play for Women. 

Farmer's Life, Tfie. 

Glove and the Lion.s, The. 

Gray Honors the Blue, The. 

Hamlet, Act II., Scene 2 

Hannah Binding Shoes. 

Henry the Fifth at Har- 

How Tom Sawyer White- 
washed his Fence. 

Leper, The. 

Light- house May. 

Locliiers Warning (Dia- 


Masters of the Situation. 

Master's Touch, The. 

Marco Bozzaris. 


Mine Katrine. 

Model Discourse, A. 

Mont Blanc before Sunrise. 

My Minde to Me a King- 
dom Is. 

Night After Christmas, The. 

Night Before Christmas, 

Old Grimes. 

Old Eobin. 

Our Minister's Sermon. 

Our Traveled Parsoii. 

Owl Critic, The. 

Parody, A. 


Paul before King Agrippa. 
Reflections on Westminstei 

Royal Princess, A. 
Saving Mission of Infancr, 

Selling the Farm. 
Shakspearian Burlesque 

Sheriff Thome. 
Ship of Faith, The. 


ind I. 


After Death. 

American Specimen, An. 

Arrow and the Song, The. 

Bald-headed Man, The. 

Bay Billy. 

Beecher on Eggs. 

Better in the Morning. 

Bessie Kendrick's Journey. 

Blue Sky Somewhere. 


Character of Washington, 

Child Musician, The. 
Christmas Carol, A. 
Coney Island Down der 

Defence of Lucknow, The. 
Emigrant's Story, The. 
Enoch Arden. 
Everlasting Memorial, The. 
Fire-Bell's Story, The. 
First Quarrel The. 
Gran'ma Al'as Does. 
Harvesters, The (Tableau). 
fier Letter. 

How Kuby Played. 

In the Garret. 

International Episode, An. 

King's Missive, 1661, The. 

Leap Year iu the Village 
with One Gentleman (Di- 

Lesson, The. 

Little Feet. 

Monk in his Cell, A (Ta- 

Mrs. MacWilliams and the 

Nations and Humanity. 


"N" for Nannie and "B" 
for Ben. 

Nun at her Devotions, A 

Old Folks. 

Ophelia (Tableau). 

Order for a Picture, An. 

Over the Hill from the 

Peace in God. 

South Wind, The. 
Surly Tim's Trouble. 
Tableaux from Cotter's Sat- 
urday Night. 
Tliat Hired Girl. 
Tired Mothers. 
Tom's Little Star. 
Village Blacksmith, T^ue. 
Voice in the Twilight, The- 
Woman's Rights (Dialogue) 
Wounded Soldier, The»- 

Philosophy of Laughter 
Practical Young Woman, 

Psalm XC. 
Reckoning with the Old 

Reply to Hayne. 

Rivals, The (Dialogue). 
Scene from Leah the Fo.t- 

Setting a Hen. 
Sioux Chief's Daughter, 


Song of Steam, The. 
Stage -Struck (Dialogue). 
Statue in Clay, The. 
Tale of the Yorkshire Coast, 

Temperance Question, The. 
There's No Rose Without ~. 

Thorn (Tableau). 
Undine (Tableau). 

*" This series is dcsigrncd as a receptacle into which shall fall yeai 
jy year the newest aud best reading^s of the elocutionists of the 
country. A few of the old standard pieces are always intermixed with 
the newest, thus making the Elocutionist's Annual a compact and 
convenient manual and a thing of merit." — Intelligencer, Bayle^ 
town, Pa. 


Aged Stranger, The. 

Awfully Lovely Philosophy, 

Baby's Visitor. 

Baby's Kiss, The. 

Bertha in the Lane. 

Births. Mrs. Meeks, of a 

Brier Kose. 

Bumboat Woman's Story, 

Child on the Judgment- 
Seat, The. 

Christmas Ballad, A. 

Combat between Fitz- 
James and Roderick 
Dhu (Dialogue). 


Death of Minnehaha (Ta 

Fisherman's Wife, The. 

First Party, The. 

Gypsy Fortune-Teller (Ta- 

Hamlet, Act III., Scene 4 

Henry Fifth's V/ooing (Dia- 


Ideal, The. 

I Was with Grant. 

Lady of I^yons, Scene from 

Last Prayer of Mary, Queen 
of Scots. 

Lookout Mountain. 

Master Johnny's Next-Door 

Maud Muller (Tableau). 

Mine Vamily. 

Mrs. Walker's Betsy. 

Mrs. Ward's Visit to the 

National Ensign, The. 


Palace o' the King, The. 

Paul at Athens. 

Potency of English Words. 

Pwize Spwmg Poem. 

Queen Mary, Act V., Scene 
5 (Dialogue). 

lliver. The. 

Hover's Petition. 

Sailing of King Olaf, The. 

Sam's Letter. 

School Begins To-day. 

Selling the Farm. 


Song of the Camp, The. 

St. George aud the Drag« 

Terpsichore in the Flat 

Creek Quarters. 
Then and Now. 
Thoughts for a New Tear 
Tribute to Washington. 
Truth of Truths, The. 
Unnoticed and Unhonore?! 

White Squall, The. 
Widow and Her Son, The. 
William Goetz. 
World, The. 
! Words of Strength. 
Yorkshire Cobbler, The. 


Be as Thorough as You Can. 


Blind Lamb, The. 

Caught in the Quicksand. 

Chimney's Melody, The. 




Dick Johnson's Picture. 

Death of Roland, The. 

Dot Baby off Mine. 

Eulogy on Garfield. 

Frenchman on Macbeth, 

Herve Kiel. 

Irrepressible Boy, The. 

Law of Death, The. 
Little Rocket's Christmas. 
I^arrie O'Dee. 
Little Dora's Soliloquy. 
IiAst Churge of Nej. 

Lost Pound, The. 

Mick Tandy's Revenge, 

Macbeth and the Witches 

Mother of the Grachii, The 

Nay, I'll Stay with the Lad. 

New England's Chevy- 

Old Year and the New, The. 

Phantom Ship, The. 

Quarrel between Sir Peter 
and Lady Teazle (Dia- 

Rev. Gabe Tucker's Re- 

Railway Matinee, A. 


Reveries of a Bachelor (Ta- 

Reminiscence of Exhibi- 
tion Day. 

Shriving of Guinevere, The. 

Schoolmaster Beaten, The. 


Sky, The. 

School Statistics. 

Scene from Damon and 
Pythias (Dialogue). 
low-Birds (Tableau). 

Tilghman's Ride, 

Theology in the Quarters. 

To the Susvivors of the Bat- 
tle of Bunker Hill. 

Till Death TJs Join. 

Tammy's Prize. 

Tragedy, The. 

True Story of Little Boy 
Blue, The. 

Two Blind Beggars (Ta- 

Village Choir, The (Ta- 

Wasliington Hawkins Diuei 
ith Col. Sellers. 

Wayside Inn, The. 

Dr. J. TT. Luther, President Baylor College, Independence, Texas, says-, 
•I regard this series as the best pablisbed for this department of col- 
lege study. The Anuuals are specially valiiahlo as sustaining- th« 
Interest of the pupil and wideuing her kiiuwl.dge of our bes* 

A.postrop)ie tn the Ocean. ]ller Name. 

Arctic .\urora, An. 
Fallot Gill, The. 
Bobolink, The. 
iCatching the Colt. 
Child .Martyr. The. 
Clowu"8 Baby, The. 
Convict's Soliloquy, 


Joan of Arc at the Stake 

Knowledge and Wisdom. 
Life's Loom. 
I Lisping Lover, The. 
the Little Boy's Valentine, A 

Night before Execution, Little Gottlieb's Christmas. 


Death of Little Paul Dom- 

I>eooration Day. 

Dutchman's Snake, The. 

Echo and the Ferry. 

Execution of Queen Mary. 


Flash— the Fireman's Sto- 

Foxes' Tails; or.Sandy Mac- 
donald's Signal, The. 

Freckled-faced Girl, The. 

Front Gate, The. 

Froward Duster, The. 

Garfield at the WLeel. 

Grandmother'^ A-pology, 

I Mice at Play 

Model American Girl, The. 

Modern Facilities for Evan- 
gelizing the World. 

Mona's Waters. 

Naomi and Her Daughters- 
in-Liiw (Tableau). 

Xew Slate, The. 

Nicodemus Dodge, 

No Kiss. 

Old Year and the New, The. 

One Flower for Nelly. 

Parson's Fee; or, The Bag 
of Beans, The (Tableau). 

Possible Consequences of a 
Comet Striking the Earth 
in the Pre-glacial Period. 

Prospects of the Republic. ' 

Aanty Doleful's "Visit. 

Aux Italiena. 

Ballad of Cassandra Brown, 

Battle Flag at Shenandoah, 

Bell of Zanora, The. 
Bells, The. 

Bells Across the Snow. 
Beyond the Mississippi. 
Bishop'8 Visit, The. 
Blind Poefs "Wife, The. 
Book Canvasser, The. 
Brother's Tribute, A. 
Convention of Kealistic 

Country School, The. 
Dude, The. 

Duelist's "Victory, The. 
Earnest Views of Life. 
Easter-Tide Deliverance, 

A. D. 439. 
Engineers Making Love, 

Fall of Pemberton Mill, 



Felon's Cell, A. 

Fly's Cogitations, A. 

God's Love to Man. 


Grace of Fidelity, The. 

How Girls Study. 

How the Gospel came to 

Jim Oaks. 
Industry Necessary to the 

Attainment of Eloquence. 

Interviewing Mrs. Pratt. 
I would'na Gie a Copper 

Jesus, Lover of my Soul. 

Brown's Steam 

Legend of the Beautiful, 

Life's Story. 
Lincoln's Last Dream. 
Magic Buttons. 
Maister an' the Bairns, The. 
Man's Mortality. 


Queen Vashti's Lament. 

Rock Me to Sleep. 

Romance of a Hammock. 

Shallow of Doom, The. 

Song or the Jlystic. 

Speeches of Zenobia an;! 
her Council in Reference 
to the Anticipated War 
with Rome (Dialogue). 

Sunday Fishin'. 

Supposed Speech of John 
Adams on the Declaration 
of Independence. 

Telephonic Conversation, A, 

This Side and That. 


Ticket o' Leave. 

Trial of Fing Wing (Dia- 

Tribute to Sir "W^ter Scott, 

Wedding of Shcm Maclean, 

Where's Annette? 

Winter in the Lap ol 
Spring (Tableau). 

Wonders of Genealogy,Thft 


Mine Schildhood. 

Newsboy's Debt, The. 

Old Book, That. 

Old Letter. 

Over the Orchard Fence. 

Pantomime, A. 

Poor-House Nan. 

Popular Science Catechism. 

Power of the Tongue, The. 

Psalm Book in the Garret, 

Receiviag Calls. 
Santa Claus in the Mines. 
Serenade, The. 
She Cut his Hair. 
Skeleton's Story, The. 
Story of Chinese Love, A. 
Tarrytown Romance, A. 
Teddy McGuire and Pad*?' 

Ter'ble 'Sperience, A. 
Total Annihilation. 
Trying to be Literal 
"Wave, The. 
"Wendell Phillips* 

"The selections ib the Elocutionists' Annual present a very please 
lug variety in style and sutoject, and afibrd a conTenient little 
volume from which to make selections for readings and recitations."— jBwr- 
iinglon Hawkeye. 

Abbess's Story, The. iJfhrshaphafs Deliverance. 

Al'ter-Dinner Speect. by „ jadif Rohesia, The. 

Frenchman. Tandlords Visit, The. 

A-ncient Miner's Story ,The. Little Quaker Sinner, The. 
Aristarchus Studies Elo-, Lead the Way. 

cution. JLegnnd of the Organ - 

At Last. I Builder, The. 

On the Stairway. 

Oui to Old Aunt Mary's. , 

Our Relations to England. 

Playi'ul (Acting CharadeX 

Playing School. 

Public Speech. 

Aunt Betsy and Little Da- Let the Angels Ring the Regulua to tht" Carthagin- 

vy (Dialogue). 
Aunt Polly's 



' George 'Literary Kecreat: 

Banford's Burglar-Alarm. 

Better Things. 


Chase, The. 

Child's Dream of a Star, A. 

Chopper's Child, The. 

Cloud, The. 

Devotion (Tableau). 

Diana (Tableau). 

Ego et Echo. 

Elijah and the Prophets of 

Griffith Hammerton. 

Humblest of the Earth - 
Children, The. 

In the Signal-Box; a Sta- 
tion Master's Story. 

■y in 


Marit and I. 
Mary's Night Ride. 
Marry Me, Darlint, 

Memorial Day. 
Methodist Class Meeting,A 
Mine Shildren. 
Mother and Poet. ^ 
Murder of Thomas a Beck- 

et (Dialogue). 
New Cure for Rheumatism, 

New Year; or. Which Way? 

Old Continentals, The. 
Old Man Goes to Town.The. 

Rhymlet, A. 
Smoke of Sacrifice, The. 

of the American Ea« 

Spring Poet, The. 

Statuary (Tableaux). 

Tableaux from Hiawatha, 
with Readings. 

Three Graces, The (Ta- 

Tribute to Longfellow, A. 

Two Stammerers, The. 

Union Fojever, The (T»« 
Uncle Ben." 

V-a-s-e, The. 

Yosemite, The. 


1\% National Scljool of Elocutioi] and Oratory, 

1416 and 1418 CHESTNUT STREET, 


Dr. EDWARD BROOKS, A. M., President. 

^"AhiS Institu-tion offers superior facilities for Class 
and. Private Instrtaetion in all departments of 
a complete Elocutionary and Oratorical Course. Cata- 
logue {QQ pages) sent free on application to the Sec-- 

J. H. Bechtel. 


TN addition toourovvn publications herein mentioned, 
I we make a' specialty of supplying works relating 
^ to Elocution and Oratory, either in quantity or 
single copies. Orders for books upon any subject will 
receive our prompt attention and be filled upon most 
favorable terms. 

For some time past we have felt the necessity of 
effecting an arrangement whereby we could sup'^ly the 
constant and increasing demand for 


gpecial {(5; gelectior.s 

■ _5r 

It gives us great pleasure to announce that wi riow 
have facilities for filling this long-felt want. Selec -ions 
are frequently read in public v/hich please the audi-^nce 
and lead them to desire a copy, but not being persorally 
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Author of ** Oratory. '^ 


^? HIS new book deals with a subject of deep interest lO all wbij 
I have occasion to speak in public. It therefore appeals 
■■ not only to those who are connected with the affairs of 
Goverrment— National, State and Municipal— but 
also to members of Boards of Education, of Public Institu- 
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present and opinions to express upon current questions, and who 
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the speaker. 

While the different modes of speech are fully described, and the 
special merits of other forms of address are clearly pointed out, the 
particular object of this book is to show how a man of average 
ability may learn to speak extemporaneou.^ly with 
ease and certainty. Mere generalities are discarded, while 
all those little details of practical work which the theorist overlooks 
are made prominent. Some parts of the work are simple 
enough to be comprehended by a school-boy, and 
may be applied by him in his first efforts; other parts may be 
read with profit by 1;ne orator already in the maturity oi 
his powers. 

Not every man may become a Clay or a Webster, yet whoevei 
follows the directions here given may feel assured that he is on 
the high-road to the greatest success within the reach 
of his faculties. 

275 Pages, IHandsomely Sound, Cloth, - - $1.25 

For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, or will be sent, 
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National School of ElocuHon and Oratory, Publishers, 

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Ohas. O. Shoemaker. Manaqer^ PHILADELPHIA* 


VOLUMES J. 2, 3, 4, BTC. 

Designed for Public ana Social Entertainment, 
and for use in Scl-iools and Colleges. 


Late President of the National School of Elocution and Oratory ^ 

AND MRS. J. W. SHOEMAKER, Vice-President. 

Yofume 1 consists of Numbers One, Two and Three, 
Volume 2 of Four, Five and Six, 

Volume 3 of Seven, Eight and Nine, and 
Volume 4 of Ten, Eleven and Twelve of the Elocutionist's Annual. 

They contain 6oo large i2mo piges each, on excellent paper, 
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are so arranged M'ith Indexes of Selections, Authors, etc., as 
to make them not only the most valuable collections of Choice 
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Retail Prices, Per Volume, Postpaid. 

Cloth Edition, $1.50; Green and Gold Edition, ^2.00; Turkey 
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first supply. 

An Oration by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, delivered before the 
National School of Elocution and Oratory, May 29th 1876. Large, 
clear type, limp Cloth, with fac-simile of author's signature, post- 
paid, 25 cents. 

V/hite ^uiiligliti of Potent ^iovis. 

An oration by Rev. John S. Macintosh, D. D. Delivered before 
the National School of Elocution and Oratory, June 15th, 1881. 
Postpaid, Cloth, 25 cents. Sold by all Booksellers, or by 

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This volume has been prepared in response to many urgent and 
repeated requests. Every one in charge of entertainments and ex- 
hibitions has experienced the difficiilty in procuring fresh and 
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ent work. While the worth of the volume will be appreciated only 
after actual use, yet we respectfully invite all interested to 


1. Every dialogue has been prepared especially for this work. 

2. Provision has been made /or all agr^.s— children, youths, and 
adults— ajtd: for all occasions— V&.r\ov Entertainments, Sunday and 
Day School Exhibitions, Holiday Anniversaries, National and Pa- 
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3. We have selected only such dialogues as have a strong and 
toell developed plot ; such as are unexceptional in literary expres- 
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4. The editor, Mrs, J. W. Shoemaker, is eminently qualified by 
her wide experience for a work of this nature, and by her direction 
the dialogues have been prepared on a comprehensive plan of 
great varieft/, as suggested by her long familiarity with the wants 
of the elocutionary public. 


" Ruggles & Co.," by Charles Stokes Wayne, of the Philadelphia 
Bulletin, a very touching sketch from everyday life. 

"Genevra," founded on the story of Rogers' poem, by Emma 
Sophie Stilwell. 

'* The Ghost of Crooked Lane," a laughable sketch, by George M. 

" The Spirit of Liberty," by Mrs. S. L. Oberholtzer, unique and 
patriotic, with concealed chorus. 

" Ten Famous Women," by Elizabeth Lloyd. Historical, inter- 
esting, and instructive. 

" Gretchen," by L. J. Rook. A sparkling doll story for two little 

" Brave Boston Boys," by Morris Harrison. Thrilling and patri- 
otic. The Revolutionary story of the boys" complaint to General 
Gage against the British soldiers. 


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Hoards, j)ostpaid, 25 cents. 

{T^rilS book contains choice Readings, Meeitations, DinlogiiPSf 

Xt and Tableaux, adapted to the Home Circle, Juvenile Concerts^ 
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The high character of our publications is a guarantee of the 
literary merit of this work. In the preparation of this little 
volume the compiler has had in view especially the wants 
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the " mature age of fourteen arid fifteen years." 

Entertainments given- by children, assisted, perhaps, by their 
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fore confident that tliis collection xvill supply a long-felt tifanf. 
While some of the old favorites have been retained, the book is 
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"A Knowledge of the Mind lies at the Foundation of all Education." 

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^^HIS work opens a new era in the Science of Teaching. Recog- 
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n"n?7 249 797 I